With C and I’s wedding happening next month you could say that the stress level around here is running just a touch high. My mom can’t sleep because she worries about everything that needs to get done, everyone coming into town and the limited time we have left to get it all done. I can’t sleep at night… adding, deleting and reviewing my, what seems to be, never ending list of things to order, things to do, and things to make. At 12 am, trying to determine just the right amount of flowers for the centerpieces and the color of shoes to go under my dress just seems vitally important and sleep can wait.
But, none of this beats the anxiety that my Dad is experiencing. Not only is he worried about how I’m getting down the aisle, how he’s getting down the aisle, who’s pushing the wheel chair and whether or not he’ll stand up… he’s dreaming about it too. Not any dream, mind you. A dream, that I believe, would be haunting for any man. It went a little something like this:
My Dad: You think you’ve got it bad, I’ve been dreaming about the wedding.
My Mom: Really?
My Dad: Yeah……. Only in my dream…. I’m the bride. And, no one is showing up for the wedding. I repeatedly ask why no one is showing up and finally find out it’s because they’re charging $22.50 per plate to come. It was awful.
My Mom: <insert hysterical laughter>
It puts it all into perspective. My dad is dreaming about being the bride, which is not only slightly disturbing, but also not a particularly attractive image. I’m not sure any of the other details can top that.
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