So, the wedding wiped me out! Who knew entertaining and smiling could be so very exhausting?
Not in the know? Well, pull up a chair dolls. Middle Chicken got married last month. It’s been a year in the planning. And, shocker, nothing went wrong. Not anything that anyone would notice anyway. As an event chick, I’ve seen much worse; especially at weddings. No one fell. No one fought. No one dropped a cake, a drink or a bride. Whew!
It’s surreal to watch a child join her life with another. You already know Lawyer Boy is perfect all on his own. He’s the prince about which little girls dream. Handsome, successful, devoted, and nice to your mother. Even if it’s an act, I don’t care. I’ve loved this boy since the first day he came to our home and brought with him a football signed by Joe Namath–even before he knew Joe is slated to be my second husband. A few years later, he brought a Bama hat, again signed by my second husband with a Roll Tide on the side. Yep, Lawyer Boy has all the moves. And he’s nice.
I’ve always told my girls never underestimate nice. There’s a lot of nights in the rest of your life and you don’t want to spend them with a Grumpy Gus. Or a Darrin Downer. Or a Chris Complainer. Or a guy who doesn’t like cats, buying you shoes or having tea at The Ritz.
Of course there were tears. Besides the regular variety, we had the tears only children who’ve lost a parent know. The Norwegian could be felt through the night. From the moment Oldest Chicken perched Middle Chicken’s arm in his to walk her up the aisle to a father-daughter dance featuring a collection of fathers who’ve stepped up since she lost hers, to Baby Chicken toasting to the love of a sister. It’s enough to make a mom take to cocktails and dancing.
Joe, as in Namath, my second husband, was a no-show. He was invited–there are behind the scenes relationships y’all. When I saw his rsvp negatory come through, my heart sank a little. How else was he to meet the mother of the bride and fall madly in love? Pull her to the dance floor and start the romance of the century? He has no idea what he missed. Goddess V did my hair. Another girl took years off my face with her makeup artistry and charm was the night’s hallmark. You missed out Joe.
Instead, a girl’s besties join in celebrating Middle Chicken and Lawyer Boy. We toast. We dance. We sing. We toast. And we cry a little as every time we look at the bride, we see a pigtailed four-year-old with missing teeth being pushed on a swing by her precious dad. And the laughter echoes.
The Duchess Diaries 