Sunday, Tasha had her first wedding shower, thrown by my aunts and grandmas on my Dad’s side. The males of the family elected to go to Bob Evans for brunch, which was interesting considering anyone older than 40 in my family cannot hear anything, nor do they care what others think about the things that they say. My cousin, my sisters fiance, and I sat at one end of the table, so we generally kept ourselves sane for the rest of the proceedings.
The waitress started taking orders at one end of the table. My grandpa was in the middle, and everything anyone said to him had to be echoed to him so he could hear. He’s entitled, he’s pushing 80. My Dad, on the other hand, is not. The waitress was blocked in so she couldn’t come around to our end of the table (there were 10 of us at one long table), so it degenerated down to my Dad bellowing what he wanted to the woman, and she kept asking him stuff. Eventually he got frustrated and just said “HEY! It’d be NICE if you came down here to talk to me.” About half of the surrounding area got quiet, it was quite funny.
Brunch came and went (I had a bacon cheeseburger that was pretty good), and I was called to show up at the bridal shower. I did so, to find a pile so vast of kitchen equipment and utensils that I will probably live the remainder of my life and not know all their functions. Also, I was bequeathed a “Honey Do Kit”, which consisted of a large garbage can, dishwashing liquid, a gigantic plunger (nice subtle commentary there, ladies), a hamper, a rake, a swiffer dust thingie, and various soaps and cleansers. I was amazed at the generosity of my immediate family, seriously. We now have essentially a full kitchen set, and one bridal shower left to go.
Some blessed person on Tasha’s side of the family got me a set of six bar-quality beer mugs. Thank you, anonymous donor. Someone also got us Lord of the Rings Trivial Pursuit. It’s nice to get board games as wedding presents. Strange, but nice.
The next shower is a week from now (I think, not sure), and it is from my more volitile Mom’s side of the family. I’m not so sure Tasha’s going to make it out of that one without being horribly embarrassed at least once. Most of my week will be spent writing thank you notes, as many of them are well deserved.
Tomorrow, however, I head to Macomb to nail down the specifics on some contract work.
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