Dealing with pesky little problems while tying the knot.
The big day arrived with lots of sun. Surprisingly, I was very calm, all things considered. Donning my outfit, pre-chosen to ensure there were no wardrobe malfunctions I set off to the venue which was at the home of the groom’s parents. We have been close friends for many years, and I watched their kids grow up.
I perched on a stool planted about where you would expect an alter to be. The idea behind the stool was I would be at basically the same height as the bride and groom without having to stand for a long period of time, as I have rheumatoid arthritis. There were a few bad moments as the legs of the stool sunk unevenly into the ground.
The groom and his groomsmen came and lined up on my right, looking exceedingly handsome in black with red ties. I had asked the guests not to stand for the bridesmaids, but to save that honour for the bride.
Without warning I saw the bridesmaids charging down the stairs like all the devils in hell were after them with the bride was in hot pursuit! I tried to signal to them to slow it down a bit, but they were intent on getting to their spots on my left. I barely had time to shout, “Please stand for the bride,” as the last bridesmaid started up the aisle.
My stool was wobbling wildly as I asked, “Who gives this woman, in marriage, to this man?” The bride’s mother answered, “I do.” Tears of pride gathered in her eyes as she placed her daughter’s hand in that of the groom.
There was a brief moment of hushed quiet as I offered up a silent prayer that the stool would remain upright until the end of the ceremony. At that point these words kept going through my mind “Weebles wobble, but they don’t fall down.”
Gathering my thoughts, I began the familiar words of the marriage ceremony. At one point the groom looked at me with sheer panic in his eyes, knowing instinctively he had forgotten his vows, I winked and led him through them slowly.
Lost in the magical feeling of the ceremony, I soon forgot the wobbling stool. But nearing the end of the ceremony, a new problem presented its self when a large bumble bee was attracted to the bride’s beautiful bouquet of red roses. I wasn’t sure how she was going to react to this new challenge, would she merely faint or throw her bouquet way ahead of schedule. She closed her eyes tightly, composing herself and we continued on.
Just before it was time to tell the groom, he could kiss the bride the bee landed on his shoulder. I came up with a rather nontraditional solution, rolled up the papers I was reading from and struck the groom’s shoulder, as the groomsmen and bridesmaids looked on in horror. Then I quickly instructed, “You may now kiss the bride”