I’m sorry I’ve been away and busy with other things lately. Just remember that I have to work to buy you more toys… or electricity.. or well.. that comment worked with the kids. I promise that in t-12 days, I’ll have lots to share with you. And lots to share after that. It’s just the pesky work thing getting in the way. And I’m sick of saying that I’m busy with work, too!
How about I tell you a funny kind of story about the wedding I went to last weekend? You’d like that? Ok, here it goes.
The wedding was at 3pm, so by 12:30, I was getting ready. I spent over an hour drying my hair just so and applying the once-in-a-blue-moon application of make up that I only do for special events. I had on an outfit I’d never worn before and felt good that I was looking the best I could be!
The parking area for this wedding was at the back side of the church, so we pulled into the parking lot and found a space that wasn’t too far back in the lot, but wasn’t right in front either. There were a few clouds, but there were patches of blue sky as well. Just as Hubby cut the engine a large raindrop plopped on the windshield. Hubby decided to check for an umbrella, but had no luck. Hubby said we should go in before it really started to rain and since I’d only seen a drop or two, I figured it would be ok to walk quickly to the entrance.
I got out of the car and started across the parking lot, gimping up the curbing at the back of the church – just too far from the car to get back to it in a timely fashion – when the sky opened up and it began to rain in earnest. I quickly ducked under a tree that was growing in a way that kept me dry, snickering with Hubby about the silliness. The rain let up and we thought we were in the clear, so I gimped away from my tree and back on the pavement and got about 10 steps from my protective tree when Mother Nature dumped a bucket on my head. I skip-ran, wailing, to the next tree, larger than the first and down a slight incline, but certainly not growing in the same way. Hubby and I looked at each other and laughed. We laughed so hard at how drenched we both were. My hair was plastered to my head, my clothing was clinging to my body and my makeup was trailing down my face like some kind of crazy clown.
We couldn’t stop laughing. It was just so ridiculous that we could see blue skies and we were drenched and supposed to go into this glorious chapel for a beautiful ceremony. But our laughter was a reminder to us both that this is why we are married.
The rain started to let up a bit and we decided we were soaked anyway, so we should attempt to go in and find some paper towels to sop up some of the mess. I looked nervously at the incline, seeing that it was wet and muddy in spots. All I could imagine was slipping in the mud in my boot….but Hubby was right there to give me a hand and steady me whi…. wha… ?? Instead of him holding me up, I ended up holding him up while he and his sized 14 shoes were doing a crazy kind of cartoonish dance to keep him from falling face down in the mud. Luckily, he rights himself, but by now we are rollin’. We are belly laughing and crying it’s so funny, this comedy of weather. What were a few more drops of rain going to do at that point anyway.
But the rain had stopped and was clearing as if it almost hadn’t even happened. And just as I was thinking of a story from my youth, about when a quick summer shower had drenched me and my cousin’s dog while on a quick walk, but had dried up by the time I got back to my Grandma’s house, so my Grandma accused me of playing in a sprinkler instead, Hubby said, “Oh yeah, and I’ll bet you were going to tell me that it was a rain shower and not the sprinkler.”, almost as if he had read my mind. More laughs and grins and at that moment, I was reminded that this was what a marriage was. Good times and bad, slipperiness and health, shared lives and shared stories and above all of it, the ability to laugh and remember what it was that made you fall in love with that person all over again.
Of course, when we walked into the vestibule, looking like something the cat dragged in from the local creek, and all the other guests looked at us with sympathy and empathy, we knew we were looking pretty bad. One soaking wet, dripping clown make-up, gimping woman and one tall, wet and naturally silly looking man. It didn’t matter one bit to me. I had my Hubby and that’s all that mattered.
Call me old-fashioned, but what happened to decorum in churches? I went to a wedding today and really it was beautiful. I’ll go into that more in a bit. I just had a question for everyone here. Maybe I should figure out how to make it a poll, but how many of you would wear a short spaghetti strap dress, or sleeveless or tube type short dress, to a full Mass wedding without a wrap of some kind to cover your shoulders?
I saw some girls who were involved in what Hubby likes to call, “the sausage style of dressing, where we try to see how much meat we can fit into a small casing.” I know it’s probably really different now, but short dresses were not acceptable in church where I was brought up. There were a few GORGEOUS girls who would have been equally gorgeous had they been taught that you wear more than a yard of fabric in a church.