Dear Spencer,
I'm sure over the years you will have probably heard tidbits of this story, or perhaps the whole thing in its boring entirety. Either way, I'll tell you again.
Because it's that good. Or bad. Depending on how you look at it.
Your father and I were blissfully engaged in the fall of 2008 and by the time March of 2009 rolled around, I was sick of having the "when's the big day?" cloud looming over our heads, so Daddy and I made a plan. We decided to get married in a simple seaside ceremony in Destin, Florida in front of our closest friends and family. We chose the date May 9, 2009, which gave us just a little over a month to plan.
We'll call that mistake number one.
Despite the short time for preparations, I was actually able to get out the invites in time, order a cake, choose a site for the wedding and book a house for the reception. Before I knew it, it was time to head down to Florida to our destination wedding.
Daddy and I booked a small house to stay in for the duration of our wedding weekend, an adorable 2 bedroom cottage with a private pool. We also allowed our friends Angie, Amanda, Ashley, and Hudson to stay with us since they were helping immensely with the wedding. As soon as we pulled up at our charming cottage, we all ran inside to take in every nook and cranny of our weekend home while Daddy drove up the street to the house where Papa and Mimi were staying.
Keeping our priorities straight, Angie and I first ventured into the backyard to check out the pool. We weren't outside for 5 minutes before I heard the words "oh my God, it's a snake!" followed by a cloud of dust as Angie took off running and screaming into the house leaving me locked outside with this thing. I frantically screamed at the back door. "Guys, I am STILL outside with this snake! Someone help me!".
Finally, Angie and Amanda put on their big girl panties and came outside, just in time to watch the snake disappear under the doorway and presumably into our house. We probably should have blocked his path.
I guess that would make mistake number two.
Not really knowing what to do, I called Daddy. The phone call went something along the lines of "Hi, honey. Can you please come down here? We have a snake in the house and I need your assistance removing it." Although Daddy's version of that phone call might vary a little.
In what seemed like an eternity, but was actually no more than three minutes, Daddy and Papa came to the rescue. After searching in the dark for our venomous friend for about thirty minutes, they finally found him in a bush outside. Or we like to all pretend that was the same snake and not just some impersonator, since our snake was supposedly inside the house. Either way, that very unlucky coral-resembling snake died a very slow and painful death at the hands of two men armed with a butterknife and a flashlight.
After we gave Mr. Snake a proper trashcan burial inside an Arby's bag, we decided to retire for the night. We hoped that tomorrow would be a little less eventful, but since the Bachelorette and Bachelor party loomed, we knew that was only wishful thinking.
The majority of the next day was spent at the beach, taking in some sunshine and adult beverages, thus laying the groundwork for mistake number three. The biggest mistake of them all.
Word to the wise - never, ever, under any circumstances drink the Koolaid the day before your wedding. Keep yourself at home, under lock and key. The only beverage that should be consumed on this day is water. Period. It's unfortunate that no one shared these words of wisdom with me.
After our day of outdoor fun, the guys and the girls split into two groups and headed out for the night. While I can't really speak for what happened at the Bachelor party, I can tell you of the horrible monstrosity that was the Bachelorette party...
The night actually started off rather fun, we went to a club where we danced, acted as immature as possible, and laughed harder than we had in years. It was when it was time to go home that the night fell apart. As we were preparing to hit the door, we looked around and did a headcount. One, two, three...wait. Where's number four? Oh crap. We lost her.
And this is where things got messy.
For a ridiculous amount of time we walked up and down a pier, searched boats, went in and out of every club, screamed at the top of our lungs, searched and screamed some more. But number four was nowhere to be found. She'd simply disappeared.
{Cue frantic meltdown by a bride-to-be of epic proportions.}
After looking for a solid two hours in vain, I realized that I had no option but to call Daddy and the police. Frazzled beyond belief, I made the call to Daddy first. As soon as I got the words out "She's gone, vanished. We have to file a missing person's report." I heard a familiar voice from behind. "Hey, guys, where have y'all been?"
It was number four. She was alive, unharmed, and completely baffled that we had been looking for her. I was somewhere in between being completely relieved and infuriated beyond belief. The only thing left to do was hop in the cab, head home and pray for a less eventful wedding day.
Again with the wishful thinking.
Of course, the next day I woke up looking and feeling the worst I ever have in my entire life. My face was swollen from crying, I had the hangover to top all hangovers and a bad case of laryngitis to boot.
Ahhh, just how every bride envisions her big day!
Realizing that this was all my own fault because I should have known better than to have left the house the night before my wedding, I tried to suck it up and put on a happy face. However, when your head is throbbing and your eyes are so swollen you can barely see, being blissful isn't all that easy.
And that leads me to the next mistake, which if you're counting, is mistake number four.
Never argue with your mother on your wedding day (or the day after). Let's just say that if I could turn back time, this probably would have been the biggest mistake I would have avoided. Arguing with Nay on one of the most special days of my life is something I will forever regret. And that's all I have to say about that.
After the dust semi-settled, it was time to get to the wedding. Oh yeah, and somewhere in there, I had to clean an entire house, prepare decorations, cook, take a cold shower, dress myself, and do my best to get it together emotionally.
Just before I was heading out the door, a two-year-old Molly ran up to me and said the sweetest words I've ever heard - "Dats, you look beautiful!" as she hugged my legs.
This is where the wedding day tears began. Tears that would continue through the entire ceremony. These tears, combined with a bad case of laryngitis made my "I dos" sound more like "I don'ts".
Luckily, everyone knew the love I had for Daddy and that these were tears of exhaustion, excitement and overwhelming emotion and not tears of fear. Well, all of our guests knew, but I'm not sure what the growing crowd of onlookers who were watching a man drown in the ocean behind us thought.
Oh, did I forget to mention that?
Yes, not to be outdone, our wedding ceremony had to go and take the cake, so to say. As we were saying our vows, committing our lives to one another, a lone man was fighting for his life in the ocean. And Daddy and I were completely unaware.
As soon as the minister (who decided to show up at the festivities exactly 5 minutes before the ceremony began) said "I now present to you for the first time Mr. and Mrs..." the sirens started sounding.
Yup, the only music at our wedding was the sweet sounds of a rescue team coming to save the now two people who were drowning in the water behind us.
Fortunately, the men survived, Daddy and I were successfully married and the rest of the trip was fun - for the most part. I mean, of course, we did get 2nd-degree burns on the first day of our honeymoon, forcing us to stay inside the rest of the week; but we also got a really good story and a heck of a good marriage.
I couldn't ask for more.
Love,
Because it's that good. Or bad. Depending on how you look at it.
Your father and I were blissfully engaged in the fall of 2008 and by the time March of 2009 rolled around, I was sick of having the "when's the big day?" cloud looming over our heads, so Daddy and I made a plan. We decided to get married in a simple seaside ceremony in Destin, Florida in front of our closest friends and family. We chose the date May 9, 2009, which gave us just a little over a month to plan.
We'll call that mistake number one.
Despite the short time for preparations, I was actually able to get out the invites in time, order a cake, choose a site for the wedding and book a house for the reception. Before I knew it, it was time to head down to Florida to our destination wedding.
Daddy and I booked a small house to stay in for the duration of our wedding weekend, an adorable 2 bedroom cottage with a private pool. We also allowed our friends Angie, Amanda, Ashley, and Hudson to stay with us since they were helping immensely with the wedding. As soon as we pulled up at our charming cottage, we all ran inside to take in every nook and cranny of our weekend home while Daddy drove up the street to the house where Papa and Mimi were staying.
Keeping our priorities straight, Angie and I first ventured into the backyard to check out the pool. We weren't outside for 5 minutes before I heard the words "oh my God, it's a snake!" followed by a cloud of dust as Angie took off running and screaming into the house leaving me locked outside with this thing. I frantically screamed at the back door. "Guys, I am STILL outside with this snake! Someone help me!".
Finally, Angie and Amanda put on their big girl panties and came outside, just in time to watch the snake disappear under the doorway and presumably into our house. We probably should have blocked his path.
I guess that would make mistake number two.
Not really knowing what to do, I called Daddy. The phone call went something along the lines of "Hi, honey. Can you please come down here? We have a snake in the house and I need your assistance removing it." Although Daddy's version of that phone call might vary a little.
In what seemed like an eternity, but was actually no more than three minutes, Daddy and Papa came to the rescue. After searching in the dark for our venomous friend for about thirty minutes, they finally found him in a bush outside. Or we like to all pretend that was the same snake and not just some impersonator, since our snake was supposedly inside the house. Either way, that very unlucky coral-resembling snake died a very slow and painful death at the hands of two men armed with a butterknife and a flashlight.
After we gave Mr. Snake a proper trashcan burial inside an Arby's bag, we decided to retire for the night. We hoped that tomorrow would be a little less eventful, but since the Bachelorette and Bachelor party loomed, we knew that was only wishful thinking.
The majority of the next day was spent at the beach, taking in some sunshine and adult beverages, thus laying the groundwork for mistake number three. The biggest mistake of them all.
Word to the wise - never, ever, under any circumstances drink the Koolaid the day before your wedding. Keep yourself at home, under lock and key. The only beverage that should be consumed on this day is water. Period. It's unfortunate that no one shared these words of wisdom with me.
After our day of outdoor fun, the guys and the girls split into two groups and headed out for the night. While I can't really speak for what happened at the Bachelor party, I can tell you of the horrible monstrosity that was the Bachelorette party...
The night actually started off rather fun, we went to a club where we danced, acted as immature as possible, and laughed harder than we had in years. It was when it was time to go home that the night fell apart. As we were preparing to hit the door, we looked around and did a headcount. One, two, three...wait. Where's number four? Oh crap. We lost her.
And this is where things got messy.
For a ridiculous amount of time we walked up and down a pier, searched boats, went in and out of every club, screamed at the top of our lungs, searched and screamed some more. But number four was nowhere to be found. She'd simply disappeared.
{Cue frantic meltdown by a bride-to-be of epic proportions.}
After looking for a solid two hours in vain, I realized that I had no option but to call Daddy and the police. Frazzled beyond belief, I made the call to Daddy first. As soon as I got the words out "She's gone, vanished. We have to file a missing person's report." I heard a familiar voice from behind. "Hey, guys, where have y'all been?"
It was number four. She was alive, unharmed, and completely baffled that we had been looking for her. I was somewhere in between being completely relieved and infuriated beyond belief. The only thing left to do was hop in the cab, head home and pray for a less eventful wedding day.
Again with the wishful thinking.
Of course, the next day I woke up looking and feeling the worst I ever have in my entire life. My face was swollen from crying, I had the hangover to top all hangovers and a bad case of laryngitis to boot.
Ahhh, just how every bride envisions her big day!
Realizing that this was all my own fault because I should have known better than to have left the house the night before my wedding, I tried to suck it up and put on a happy face. However, when your head is throbbing and your eyes are so swollen you can barely see, being blissful isn't all that easy.
And that leads me to the next mistake, which if you're counting, is mistake number four.
Never argue with your mother on your wedding day (or the day after). Let's just say that if I could turn back time, this probably would have been the biggest mistake I would have avoided. Arguing with Nay on one of the most special days of my life is something I will forever regret. And that's all I have to say about that.
After the dust semi-settled, it was time to get to the wedding. Oh yeah, and somewhere in there, I had to clean an entire house, prepare decorations, cook, take a cold shower, dress myself, and do my best to get it together emotionally.
Just before I was heading out the door, a two-year-old Molly ran up to me and said the sweetest words I've ever heard - "Dats, you look beautiful!" as she hugged my legs.
This is where the wedding day tears began. Tears that would continue through the entire ceremony. These tears, combined with a bad case of laryngitis made my "I dos" sound more like "I don'ts".
Luckily, everyone knew the love I had for Daddy and that these were tears of exhaustion, excitement and overwhelming emotion and not tears of fear. Well, all of our guests knew, but I'm not sure what the growing crowd of onlookers who were watching a man drown in the ocean behind us thought.
Oh, did I forget to mention that?
Yes, not to be outdone, our wedding ceremony had to go and take the cake, so to say. As we were saying our vows, committing our lives to one another, a lone man was fighting for his life in the ocean. And Daddy and I were completely unaware.
As soon as the minister (who decided to show up at the festivities exactly 5 minutes before the ceremony began) said "I now present to you for the first time Mr. and Mrs..." the sirens started sounding.
Yup, the only music at our wedding was the sweet sounds of a rescue team coming to save the now two people who were drowning in the water behind us.
Fortunately, the men survived, Daddy and I were successfully married and the rest of the trip was fun - for the most part. I mean, of course, we did get 2nd-degree burns on the first day of our honeymoon, forcing us to stay inside the rest of the week; but we also got a really good story and a heck of a good marriage.
I couldn't ask for more.
Love,
Mommy
No comments:
Post a Comment