It sounds like the title of a horror movie. And (gasp), I’m playing the leading role! Being married, I suppose my official title is Matron of Honor. Sounds important right? In reality, all it means is I’m old enough to have a 46 year old husband, two teenagers and a seven year old to make fun of me in the little strappy number I’ll be wearing. Even if I will be the fattest of the four, at least I have the satisfaction of knowing I’m not the oldest maid in the bunch—yeah, you know who you are.
Okay, picture this; I walk into the bridal store with my girlfriend and one of the other bridesmaids. We’re greeted by someone we’ll call Lola, a wedding coordinator. Queue the flashback scene music. Doo doo doo; doo doo doo…
Amy (The bride): we’re here to pick out bridesmaids dresses.
Me: Don’t forget to tell her we’re old and fat.
Lola: (Laughs) All right Amy, what color is your dress, white, ivory, cream, or something else?
Amy: Well, I haven’t picked out my dress yet.
Lola: And…when did you say you were getting married?
Amy: October.
Lola: (Wildly fanning herself) Oh Lawd! (Picks up telephone and presses speaker button) Paging Miss Shania, please come to the front of the store. We have a code red at the welcome desk.
Enter Miss Shania…a short stocky middle aged wedding coordinator.
Lola: Miss Shania, I need you to help these ladies out while I take Miss Amy to pick out a wedding dress.
Miss Shania: Well, certainly ladies, step right this way.
AND THEN IT HAPPENED! MISS SHANIA LOOKS STRAIGHT AT ME AND SAYS.
And you’re the mother of the bride?
In the past, people have always said I look much younger than I really am. But apparently to Miss Shania, I look like I could mother a 34 year old woman. I don’t know what came over me. I couldn’t make my finger stop wagging in her face. I looked over at my “older” friend who was snickering uncontrollably. Well, for the rest of the day I was Miss Shania’s “best friend”. And for some reason, in Miss Shania’s opinion, every dress I tried on from that point on was absolutely gorgeous on me.
Just when I thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, my body decided to betray me and go into personal summer mode—I’m talking Sahara Desert caliber hot flash. The sweat fountain opened up and my face was brighter than the “red apple” color dress I was trying on.
You know, when God created the institution of marriage He never intended for us to be consumed with bridesmaids dresses, controlling mother’s (not me), or what flavor the groom’s cake should be. Sure God wants us to celebrate the union of two people, but it’s never been God’s plan that we worry about these things. After all, it was at a wedding that Christ performed His first miracle. And thank goodness, He’s still in the miracle business, because it’s definitely going to take one to get me through this wedding. Do you think I’m being repaid for the mauve dresses I made the girls wear in my wedding?
Question: How can you tell whether it’s a first time marriage or not?
Answer: The combined total of children belonging to the wedding party alone is more than sixteen!
Okay, picture this; I walk into the bridal store with my girlfriend and one of the other bridesmaids. We’re greeted by someone we’ll call Lola, a wedding coordinator. Queue the flashback scene music. Doo doo doo; doo doo doo…
Amy (The bride): we’re here to pick out bridesmaids dresses.
Me: Don’t forget to tell her we’re old and fat.
Lola: (Laughs) All right Amy, what color is your dress, white, ivory, cream, or something else?
Amy: Well, I haven’t picked out my dress yet.
Lola: And…when did you say you were getting married?
Amy: October.
Lola: (Wildly fanning herself) Oh Lawd! (Picks up telephone and presses speaker button) Paging Miss Shania, please come to the front of the store. We have a code red at the welcome desk.
Enter Miss Shania…a short stocky middle aged wedding coordinator.
Lola: Miss Shania, I need you to help these ladies out while I take Miss Amy to pick out a wedding dress.
Miss Shania: Well, certainly ladies, step right this way.
AND THEN IT HAPPENED! MISS SHANIA LOOKS STRAIGHT AT ME AND SAYS.
And you’re the mother of the bride?
In the past, people have always said I look much younger than I really am. But apparently to Miss Shania, I look like I could mother a 34 year old woman. I don’t know what came over me. I couldn’t make my finger stop wagging in her face. I looked over at my “older” friend who was snickering uncontrollably. Well, for the rest of the day I was Miss Shania’s “best friend”. And for some reason, in Miss Shania’s opinion, every dress I tried on from that point on was absolutely gorgeous on me.
Just when I thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, my body decided to betray me and go into personal summer mode—I’m talking Sahara Desert caliber hot flash. The sweat fountain opened up and my face was brighter than the “red apple” color dress I was trying on.
You know, when God created the institution of marriage He never intended for us to be consumed with bridesmaids dresses, controlling mother’s (not me), or what flavor the groom’s cake should be. Sure God wants us to celebrate the union of two people, but it’s never been God’s plan that we worry about these things. After all, it was at a wedding that Christ performed His first miracle. And thank goodness, He’s still in the miracle business, because it’s definitely going to take one to get me through this wedding. Do you think I’m being repaid for the mauve dresses I made the girls wear in my wedding?
Question: How can you tell whether it’s a first time marriage or not?
Answer: The combined total of children belonging to the wedding party alone is more than sixteen!
2 comments:
Thanks alot. I know you are not talking about me being the oldest bridesmaid, MOM.
I'm not sure if we're bridesmaids or old maids! LOL! Sorry to pick on you Tammy, but somebody has to do it.
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