When I rejoined the group discussion, my married daughter, Tracy held the floor. “Things go wrong in the best of marriages.” A chorus of agreement punctuated her statement. “We are going to go around the room; potential wives but primarily all you married women get to tell one funny story about men.” Wicked looks crossed some of the ladies’ faces. “Please, keep your reminiscing PG13!” She giggled glancing at her outspoken and ‘free spirited’ grandmother. “At the very least, clean it up as best you can if it’s a PG30 tale!”
“Oh, have I got a tail for you!” That Grandparent, Ellen exclaimed.
As that old lady snickered, Angela spoke up, “Remember the rules! Keep your public discussion family and children oriented or acceptable.”
“We can think or say anything we want in private.” Everyone giggled at that old soul’s comment.
“Grandma, we don’t want to scare the bride or anyone else. The goal is to poke fun at married life; so, Missy can face her future problems with a sense of humor.”
“Ellen, do I have to embarrass you with stories of your son?” I jested for a moment to relieve the mounting tension between my mother-in-law and her grandchildren.
“Please, don’t!” My girls pled in unison.
My in-law deduced, "That would scar his babies- for life!”
“Keep that in mind when you talk about your adventures.” My right eye winked.
“Can I start these candid memories of married life with my honeymoon?” A bridesmaid politely set the trend.
“Is it ‘R’ rated?” Our elderly relative pretended to be onboard with the rules of marriage activities being discussed.
“Yes, 'R' for riotous!” The younger gal explained, “After living together, my hubby and I wanted a special and romantic first night as a married couple. So, we ordered champagne and food.”
“Is this going to involve strawberries and whipped cream?” My in-law waved her hands while interrupting, “Cuz, that can get out of hand way too quick!”
Undeterred, that young gal finished her tale. “Of course, we ordered a red dessert wine as well as cheese with crackers.” As her story unfolded, I couldn’t take my eyes off that girl’s wide brimmed Easter-like bonnet and dated attire. If she’d been wrinkled more, that guest could have passed for an eighty year old woman.
“Good idea,” Tracy interrupted. “The couple never gets enough to eat at the reception because they’re too busy with pictures, mingling, and chores such as the cake and bouquet.” My kid’s observation startled me because- like me- she eloped.
As Ruthie applauded that gal’s story, I wasn’t sure if her reaction was sarcastic or truly supportive of the woman talking past her floppy brim. In spite of the interruptions, the young lady continued her bedtime story. “True! We placed the wine cooler near the bed making a picnic area with the down comforter. Each of us had a plate of food and drinks to enjoy.” My mind couldn’t resist picturing her with that goofy hat along with her honeymoon, fantasy garments; so, I chortled before the punch line of her tale.
“Not going in for the dessert first?” Grandma Ellen bordered on obnoxious with that comment.
The current storyteller ignored that old lady moving on with her tale. “As we enter the area from opposite sides of the bed, my husband caught his first glimpse of my new nighty, which caused him to enter the feasting area too quickly.”
“Men are that way- always indulging too fast!” An old family friend, Eve whispered a bit too loud as the older and more experienced women probably thought the same thing.
Quickly, Tracy redirected the group, “Okay, ladies! Stay out of the ‘R’ for raw zone.”
The original storyteller continued her recollection of her wedding night as people snickered at various levels some inaudibly. “The wine goblets tipped while pouring all over the blanket. I laughed to near tears as my new spouse mopped up his mess. As his face remained beet red, he kept repeating, ‘I should have gone with colorless champagne.’” We all laughed with the young lady as she begged, “Don’t tell my husband that I revealed this dark secret. He’d cringed with embarrassment.”
Taking the floor, Eve casually mentioned her honeymoon missed adventured. “Speaking of wining, my man did plenty of that when I fell asleep before his dessert. I must have had too much drink during the wedding toast.”
“How much did you drink?” Missy nonsensically cross examined.
“Two Sips!” Angela jested.
“Three!” I winked.
“What are you talking about?”
Ruthie whispered her next question to me. Before I could answer, Eve confessed. “I drank a glassful.”
“Over your limit!” Her best friend, Granma declared along with my girls.
“I was.” The other elderly soul admitted. “My husband called me ‘The Crashed Out Kid.’”
We all thought it but no one asked that old gal to define the word kid.
What other questions are asked about tying the knot (the fantasy verses the reality)?
Come on BUY (this book) to find out.
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