Roses are red, tuxedos are blue, hair, make-up, and the dress are all aa�� to-do.

It’s the night of all nights. The handsome, quiet boy picks up the beautiful girl as the chariot waits.

The night is young. I’m rocking the sloppy pony tail, the two-sizes-too-big, potato chip-stained sweatshirt, the microwave popcorn with light butter, plus the chocolate on the side along with a large Shirley Temple. It’s senior prom night and I have a date with the TV remote.

I’ve got unlimited access to hours of reruns of “The Golden Girls,” “The Facts of Life,” and “The Brady Bunch.” I can dance the night away to the tunes of the “Thank God it’s Friday” line up on Nick at Nite.

Barry Williams, Christopher Knight, and Mike Lookingland — I’m the belle of the ball. All the eyes focused to see if Tootie would ever ditch the roller skates.

After a while, it’s time to pull away from the snack bar to belt it out — “Thank you for being a friend, travel down the road and back again.” The spotlight is on. It’s time. The moment everyone has been waiting for — the crowning of Prom Queen! The clock is chiming in the hall. The magic is gone from the rusty old gym. The smell of sweat socks is creeping in.

The walk from the couch to the fridge is a long one. Its 1 a.m. and time for my after-party. Frozen waffles are on the menu. With a full belly and night of unforgettable memories, the handsome, quiet boy drops off the beautiful girl.

I’m exhausted after a night of dancing through the channels creating unforgettable memories. A long night’s sleep is due. My loose ponytail is now a bun, the stained sweatshirt becomes a little pile on the floor. The beautiful girl is asleep at last. While others were receiving extravagant proposals to dance the night away, I chose a better offer — the offer to stay home and have a date with the TV remote — popcorn and all.