Friday, my brother and his girlfriend of four and a half years finally got married. This engagement seemed to last forever, mostly due to my erratic behavior in the days leading up to said wedding. Because it reality, they were only engage for just over a year.
I don't know of a wedding that is ever really perfect, in that everything goes as planned. I mean there are alot of variables in a wedding and the chances of your flowers being totally perfect...it just doesn't happen. But we should have know that things were going to go awry when one of the best men slipped on ice outside the rehearsal dinner and broke his ankle...the night before the wedding, landing himself in the hospital to find out that whatever bone in there that he did break, is apparently the hardest bone in the body to break. That just isn't a good sign. And I was stressed about my kids bedtimes. Ahhhh, perspective.
Once wedding day arrived, there were hair appointments to go to, dresses to be worn, make up to be applied, and pictures to be taken. So, at four o'clock Dan, the kids and myself, donned in our wedding best head to the locale. On the way there, Dan's phone rings and an unfamiliar (617) number appears. Because this is a Boston zip code, Dan assumes that it is work related and lets it go to voicemail. Well, it wasn't work related. (cue ominous dun dun dun music) It was the officiant of the wedding; the officiant I referred to Jonathan and Maria when they needed to find someone who could marry them. He thought the wedding was Saturday, not Friday and was calling to say that he was still in Boston. That is Boston, MA- at the very least a three hour drive.
At first, Dan and I thought it was a joke. But when we arrived at Season's to find my brother standing in the lobby, unable to make any words, we knew it was very much not a joke. (cue awkward laugh). The wedding was set to begin in two hours. Two hours. TWO HOURS. And they had no one to marry them. Shit. And I don't swear lightly, I have two kids.
But these are the stories from which great weddings are made. "Remember when Greg broke his ankle at our rehearsal dinner and we almost didn't get married because we had no minister!"
See, it is funny....now.
And FYI, my children were RockStars!