It's been two weeks since the wedding that officially took Steph off the market. That's right, our little girl, once full of the blushing innocence of maidenhood, is now a woman of the world.
She was forked over to the domestic sphere by her friends and family before the great sweeping staircase of the Civil War Museum in Harrisburg. (She was supposed to be trussed up and placed on the sacrificial domestic alter at the scenic overlook there, but it rained.) No, they did not appear in period Civil War wedding costumes.
The ceremony was sweet, the dresses were pretty, the hors d'oeurves were memorable. It was a great wedding. Despite the rain, despite the MOB theatrics, everything went smoothly. The bride brushed aside every minor obstacle in her headlong march down the aisle with grace befitting her tiara. We two Maids of Dishonor (and the one Punkass of Honor) behaved ourselves well enough. I only made helpful suggestions, like "nobody fart" as we stood waiting in formation for Steph to complete said march. We were all respectable grown-ups about it. The best man and I both made awkward speeches before dinner and everything. Then we listened to Frank Sinatra and other smooth oldies as we ravenously consumed our chicken (or pork) and delicious, delicious cake. The guy next to me didn't eat all of his cake, and man, did I want to finish it off for him. I didn't cause that would be wierd, and also because I wasn't sure if he was really done with it or just saving it for later.
If I had my speech to do over again, there are a lot of things I would say, like "remember, Steph: kitten in the kitchen, tiger in the bedroom."
And I might have also thrown in my uncomfortable commentary on when and how they should start giving us grandchildren. You know, like everyone else seemed to want to talk about. But I didn't. Because I'm a good friend. And because Ryan was sweating enough that day.
I am a Mommy, a reader, a writer, an artist, and a teacher indefinitely between jobs. I enjoy knowing everything and living with my baby-daddy (now NO LONGER in sin, totally legit), and feeding/clothing/grooming my six year-old, two year-old, four cats, a dog, and a teenager.