I think weddings are fun. There's free food, and a table covered with presents that you can shake to guess what's in them, and there's always some very ugly, formally-attired kid whom everyone thinks is so cute when they spill their juice on the bride's train.
I like to bring a small, cordless drill with me to weddings so I can stand by the bowls of jordan almonds and put holes in them. Then I string them together with dental floss (mint-flavored), tie a knot, and then when someone tries to take one jordan almond, they get a whole string! Or sometimes I just make a really long necklace and wear them home.
By the way, after your wedding last weekend, my boyfriend and I got in a big fight about your mom putting her hand on his knee. I was going to tell you about it right then, but then you got in the limo, and you were gone. I called you that evening, but you didn't answer. Were you in the bathroom?
It really wasn't a big deal. I mean, sometimes I touch his knee under the table when we go to Olive Garden, and once in a while I tap his patella with a spoon to see if he'll kick the person across from him; it's a little game we play.
But even your dad looked surprised when she crouched next to my boyfriend while he was ordering drinks at the cash bar and started massaging his kneecap. And then when we got home and I was rubbing his legs with salve, like I do every night, I noticed the fingernail marks. That's when the fight started.
Certain stains are easy to get out of a rental tux, but not so much leather sofa cushions. I considered sending you the bill, but that's not how I roll.
You know, your mom is really too old to pull off a French manicure. It kind of makes her look like a cheap whore. But your dad probably already knows that.
No comments:
Post a Comment