"Isn't...that...Grandma's...house...there..." asked Sydney, pointing as I, lost in thought and conversation, flew past my intended destination. "Bad word," I muttered, jerking the steering wheel and slamming our van into a stranger's drive-way. We waved at him cheerfully as I considered my options of re-entering the busy highway in reverse. My chief concern was letting my Dad know about this little snafu. "He'll never let me take Grandma out again," I worried. Foregoing four lanes of traffic, I instead decided to just hightail it 50 feet in the wrong direction to get to my parents's driveway. They were, of course, waiting for me. We wrestled my Mom away from Dad and headed on our way. "I hope you don't mind," my Mom said, "but I told Haley we'd give her a ride too."
WHAT? I glanced at the clock. "You mean we're taking the bride to her own shower and we're late," I asked for clarification (plus we hadn't bought Haley a card yet...yikes). "No worries," I assured her, jerking the steering wheel again and slamming our van into the CVS parking lot. Poignant card in hand, we were soon on our way with Sydney arguing with Grandma and me about the correct spelling of "congratulations" and forgetting to write our names in the card after licking (and complaining about the taste) the envelope shut. "I'll just write it on the envelope," she said cheerfully while I glared at her in the rearview mirror and my Mom clung for dear life to the van's overhead handle as I jerked the steering wheel and slammed into Haley's driveway. This was AFTER we all disagreed on the correct spelling of my niece's name to also write on the envelope INSTEAD of the card.
We made it to the shower (late) where I miserably spent the next several hours surrounded by my brother's ridiculously beautiful family. A ridiculously beautiful family who LOVES to take pictures. "Here, Mom," I called, gesturing, "Come stand here, in front of my hips." After the painful photographing session was over, I planted Sydney and my Mom on a bench overlooking a small pond to take some "artistic" shots but they were so busy gesturing wildly like Ancient Aztec explorers that I gave up. "Behold," shouted Sydney, "a dragonfly."
Not only is my brother's family ridiculously beautiful, they are also ridiculously talented. After admiring their personalized catering, I single-handedly ruined what I'm sure was hours and hours and hours of preparation when my enthusiasm about the yogurt bar spilled over. No...literally
spilled over. Onto EVERYTHING. The only thing that saved me was my Aunt Sally bobbling the bagels next to me but at least she stuck the landing.
Worst mother-of-the-year award came out again as conversation turned to technology and Aunt Sally proudly retrieved her antiquated cell phone. Not to be out-done, Sydney dug hers out for a side-by-side comparison.
Oh...and then the pre-requisite bridal shower games. I tapped out on the very first one: a purse inventory (I don't carry a purse), opting to eat fifty fruit ka-bobs instead. Sydney happily checked off her inventory list, inexplicably pulling out not one, but two, deodorants. "Darn it," she muttered, "I had underwear in my purse just yesterday." We all paused to look at her.
Sydney and I are either a delight or a rude distraction during the gift-opening portion of the event, cheering for garbage cans, gift certificates and glasses with equal fervor. There was one particularly awkward moment when Haley, a shy, modest girl, opened up a package of rather steamy lingerie. From across the room, I helpfully explained that, if she layered her peek-a-boo camisole with an assortment of tastefully colored tank tops, she would be sure to be irresistible on her honeymoon. My last helpful act of the afternoon was to complete an advice worksheet for the once-happy-but-soon-to-be-married couple. As I filled it out, I realized that all my advice originated from television shows and movies. "Appreciate the little things" (
Zombieland) "Pause option on marital disputes" (
How I Met Your Mother). Even my suggested names for their future children were influenced by media: Ron and Hermione. Of course, Hermione is kind of challenging to spell but as the Mosimans don't tend to even bother signing their own greeting cards anymore, I guess spelling shouldn't play a factor in the decision.
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