Wedding bell blues

It finally happened. Pulled off without a hitch. The hubby's youngest brother and his new bride sealed the deal and it was a beautiful, sentimental and blissfully short wedding.


I actually love weddings. I think it's so cool to watch a couple go from a "he and she" to a "they" in one fell swoop. I especially enjoy it when I know the couple personally. I'm happy that my brother-in-law found somebody to put up with his hick tendencies and occassionaly kick him in the ass. That makes me smile.

Weddings are also a bonafide bonus for making fun of others. The reception is a finger-pointing-giggling orgasm of joy! Naturally my hubby was part of the wedding party, so I did have to wrangle the ball of fire, aka ring beary most of the weekend. That seriously cut down on my viewing pleasure. But I managed a few. The dancing, the outfits, the giant country hair -- sheer bliss.

But I believe it was the hubby's grandma who summed it all up. As we were leaving on Sunday, making our kissy-faced goodbyes, we noticed that grandpa was missing. Further inquiry found that he needed a bathroom break. With an antsy ball of fire, we decided to hit the road. As we were pulling away, grandma yelled from the driveway, "Grandpa says goodbye. He's having some trouble moving his bowels so he can't wave."

God, I love family!