While on EVAC, The Mister and I had gone away for a few romantic one-night-aways as a preemptive celebration for our 16th. When we woke up on the actual morning of our anniversary, we made plans to take the kids to the mall downtown to have a meal out during daylight hours (which is quite the novelty after a month of not being able to do so because the city is on fasting-shutdown) and also let them play at the new playpark there. We thought it was a great plan, and applauded ourselves at the amazing selfless parenting we were modeling.
Then the phone rang.
The Mister was invited to a wedding. That very day. For lunch. He had to leave in an hour and a half. Pop go the plans.
So on our 16th wedding anniversary, I sat at home alone with the kids, eating leftovers and watching films. It wasn’t all bad. The day before my birthday, a knock on our gate delivered what Charlie dubbed “A birthday present for you!” It wasn’t really a birthday present; it was a wedding invitation all wrapped up and packaged in a pretty, purple box, lined with purple, silky lining.
Seeing the contents of the invitation just set up the expectation for the wedding itself. I had bought a dress last summer while in the homeland for my brother’s wedding. I pretty much flashed any of the passersby in the department store since it was a see-through lining. My now sister-in-law, gotta love her, did the small finger point, trying to discretely draw my attention to the fact that everyone had a clear eyeful of my nipples. The Mister didn’t mind. Well, he didn’t mind HIS eyeful, but he minded anyone else having a gander. This led to my first (of a future many, I’m sure) purchase of a girdle. They are miracle workers that smooth out all the bulges and keep everything in place.
I really like the word girdle. It sounds dirty old lady-ish. A lot classier than dirty old man-ish. Girdle. Heh.
The wedding was gorgeous, and I felt lovely. For some reason, though (probably from fighting with Charlie to just get his Science work done already!), I was exhausted. I was watching the groom and bride pose for pictures, wrap their arms through one another to drink juice, eat cake when I did the classic head bob-and-snap. I had actually done what I had previously deemed impossible at an Arab wedding – I had fallen asleep! Yes, the music was blaring, people were crowded around, jostling each other for a good viewpoint, and White Girl was sawing logs.
Good thing I was wearing a girdle – Old Lady Sexy.