Here Comes the Bride
It is a fact that my brother’s fiancé did not know, and was unabashedly shocked to learn, that Vermont is a state. My brother enlightened her several months ago with my parents in the room, a circumstance that is lucky for me, because a witness is needed to corroborate a story so unbelievable and I enjoy being able to believe the story.
It is also a fact that my brother’s last girlfriend, an enthusiastic drinker, had a habit of calling my father in the very early morning after a night of excess to describe the sex acts she had just performed on my brother.
My mother has encouraged me to endorse the lesser of two evils.
So when my brother called to ask if I thought it was tacky to print where they’re registered on the invitations I did pause a moment before telling him, “Yes, it’s really tacky. The point of the wedding is to come together and celebrate your union. No one should feel obligated to bring you anything. Yes. Believe me. It’s tacky. If people want to know they’ll ask. You guys should go to the bookstore, get a cup of coffee, and read over Emily Post’s Wedding Etiquette.” I didn’t even feel bad for being blunt.
Part of the reason I didn’t feel any remorse is that she confessed to my mother that the reason she’s serving only appetizers at the reception is because it makes it increasingly likely that people will gift presents that out-value the cost of the food they consume.
The other part is that I’ve been sentenced to wearing a floor-length bridesmaid dress that’s an especially electric shade of aqua.
The wedding will be at an arboretum that is happy to let my brother and his fiancé purchase all of the alcohol for the reception from a third party as long as they use the on-site bartenders. Today I learned that she wants a cash bar and that the arboretum said no. If she brings her own it’s against policy to charge and now she’s throwing a fit because she doesn’t think it’s fair that she can’t sell her own wine. I want to call her up and ask if she really thinks it’s OK to make money off of her wedding guests.
She may not call my dad in the middle of the night, but she’s still crazy.
It is also a fact that my brother’s last girlfriend, an enthusiastic drinker, had a habit of calling my father in the very early morning after a night of excess to describe the sex acts she had just performed on my brother.
My mother has encouraged me to endorse the lesser of two evils.
So when my brother called to ask if I thought it was tacky to print where they’re registered on the invitations I did pause a moment before telling him, “Yes, it’s really tacky. The point of the wedding is to come together and celebrate your union. No one should feel obligated to bring you anything. Yes. Believe me. It’s tacky. If people want to know they’ll ask. You guys should go to the bookstore, get a cup of coffee, and read over Emily Post’s Wedding Etiquette.” I didn’t even feel bad for being blunt.
Part of the reason I didn’t feel any remorse is that she confessed to my mother that the reason she’s serving only appetizers at the reception is because it makes it increasingly likely that people will gift presents that out-value the cost of the food they consume.
The other part is that I’ve been sentenced to wearing a floor-length bridesmaid dress that’s an especially electric shade of aqua.
The wedding will be at an arboretum that is happy to let my brother and his fiancé purchase all of the alcohol for the reception from a third party as long as they use the on-site bartenders. Today I learned that she wants a cash bar and that the arboretum said no. If she brings her own it’s against policy to charge and now she’s throwing a fit because she doesn’t think it’s fair that she can’t sell her own wine. I want to call her up and ask if she really thinks it’s OK to make money off of her wedding guests.
She may not call my dad in the middle of the night, but she’s still crazy.
posted by Jessica at 19:57
2 Comments:
I don't know why, but this is so funny to me. shocking!
are you going to be at knittig this week or will you already be gone playing war games?
what an odd juxtaposition...
War games.
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