Will has always wanted to be a cowboy. So has his dad, his grandpa and probably his great great great great..oh you get the picture. He was riding ponies when he was three or something like that and I am not really sure why he didn't move out West and round up cattle for the rest of his life. Luckily for me, he didn't. Anyway, it's fitting that we're getting married in a barn.
So since the wedding is less than a month away, my dress fittings have also started.
Dress fittings are these elaborate four hour affairs where the bride takes all 15 of her bridesmaids giggling and tittering away to the swanky dress shop and everyone crowds into the dressing room helping her into her ENORMOUS satin gown that needs to be lifted over her head by three people whereby the alterations lady smiles rapturously and gives explicit directions on how to zip and tie and bustle...
Melissa's dress fitting is a three minute affair whereby she: puts the baby down, strips... shushes the baby as he scrunches up his face to yowl, crams her dress over her head, shushes the baby as he starts to scream and alterations lady begins to frown, zips up dress by herself as she has no bridesmaids because at 35 she does not want to deal with that bullshit...dress looks fine, whips dress back over head, stands naked shushing baby, pulls on pants with one hand, runs down stairs of swanky dress shop with no shoes on...sweeps baby into stroller, frantically searching out nearest bar for Michelob Ultra, and to call dress shop to make next fitting because she has forgotten as she ran out the door with howling baby..
Isn't it fitting?
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