My step-daughter Leah had been planning her wedding for years. It took her several boyfriends before she found the man who would become her Prince Charming. Then she snatched him up like a ripe plum at a farmer’s market. I walked her down the aisle, with her father clinging to the other arm, this past June.
Leah is a traditional family kind of girl. That’s why she invited her two sisters to be a part of the wedding party, and of course her niece and nephews.
Nathen, the redheaded six-year-old, was asked to be the ring bearer, which made him awfully proud. He was so proud he couldn’t say it properly.
“I’ll be the best ring burier,” he promised his Aunt Leah. And he was, too.
The wedding went smoothly. Not a SNAFU all day. In fact, the reception went just as well. Everyone had fun, ate a good meal, drank some booze (except for the minors), had some cake, danced, and congratulated the happy couple. Nathen especially had a good time. When the ceremony and the pictures were over and it was time to have a little fun, he ripped off his “cupsedo tie,” a traditional bowtie, and his ring burier suit and donned his trusty new T-shirt, which read:
• Guard the rings
• Dance with the ladies
• Steal the show
• Eat cake
Afterwards, when we were cleaning up, he said, “I checked all the boxes.”
“What boxes are those?” I asked.
“I guarded the rings, danced with the ladies, stole the show, and ate some cake.”
Yep. He checked all the boxes.
I guarded the rings, danced with the ladies, stole the show, and ate some cake.
So Leah finally got her fairy tale wedding, with two Prince Charmings.
When the celebration was over, that was a different story. The fairy tale had ended. Then it was Nightmare on Elm Street.
The happy couple had arranged for a room in one of the local hotels because the groom, a Marine stationed in Georgia, was allowed only a few days of leave and was due back on base the following Monday. They were going to have one night together and that was it.
So they went to the front desk of the hotel and Leah checked in while Greg went to the car to get their bags. Leah went up to their room and stuck the key in the door. When she walked in, she noticed some clothes hanging by the door and thought that maybe the previous occupants had left them there. But she would soon find out otherwise. She walked into the room and found a couple lying in bed. As she slowly backed herself out of the room, the man climbed out of bed and met her in the hall. She was still in her wedding gown.
“I think you have our room,” said the previously-blushing-now-flustered bride. She had in fact reserved a room the night before.
“No, you are mistaken,” the gentleman said. “This is my room.” He went back inside and called the front desk while Cinderella waited for her Prince Charming to arrive with their bags.
“You need to go to the front desk and fix this,” she told him, handing him the room key. He did. When he returned, he had a new room key and a small bag of trail mix for the trouble.
“Which one of us going hiking?” Leah asked.
When it came time to check out, the phone rang. It was the front desk.
“Are you staying another night?” the attendant asked.
“Uh, no,” Leah said. “We’re packing to leave now.”
“Well, you have to be out in fifteen minutes or we’ll have to charge you for another night.”
“I thought check-out time was noon.”
“No ma’am. It’s eleven.”
Leah looked at the clock. Eleven-fifteen. Her only thought was, It might have been a fairy tale wedding, but I seem to have lost my glass slipper.
At least she had the best ring burier in town.
write your memoir?