I preached to my fiancé for months before we got married that he wasn’t allowed to drink too much at our rehearsal dinner.
“I don’t want you hung over walking down the aisle, you need to be on your game” I would say over and over.
“I know, I know. I won’t. Trust me, I want everything to be perfect too, I’m not going to mess myself up like that for such an important day.” He promised.
We planned a bon fire in our back yard, brought the barbeque down to the patio, set up tables and chairs, and some lighting. We bought typical barbeque stuff, hotdogs, hamburgers, and brats, but of course everyone brought stuff as well.
We were all having a blast. I met his grandparents from Florida for the first time, and he met my father for the first time. We were eating, drinking, and having a jolly good time when Burke, my fiancé, decided to start the fire. As he was foolishly pouring gasoline onto the side of the fire that hadn’t caught yet my father asked me, “Does he realize how dangerously stupid that is?” I look over to see what he was doing and immediately rush over to try to take the gas can away. As we were fighting over the gas can our side of the fire caught, luckily, Burke had listened to me and hadn’t been drinking much. He saw the fire rushing towards us and threw the gas can just as the gasoline started to catch, leaving a pretty swirl of fire flying through the air. Of course everyone had watched our almost fiery demise, but I really didn’t care because despite my lecturing Burke, I was the one who had become a bit inebriated.
We gave out gifts to our wedding party which included engraved beer mugs for the boys, a picture frame for my sister, and a pillow pet for my niece. After presents, my sister decided that she and her husband needed to get the kids home because we all had an early morning. Mostly everyone left, but Burke’s family hadn’t seen each other in a long while so his grandparents and mom stayed awhile to catch up. Our best friends had come to stay with us, and the four of us were an awesome band, on the PlayStation that is. So while Burke’s family caught up we jammed out and I finished off the pony keg my brother in law had brought for the shindig.
After only God knows how many songs, I realized that it was just the four of us and it was 2:00a.m. We all said good night and went to bed, for a bit. It took me all of 15 minutes of lying there, drunk and slightly panicked, to jump out of bed and start rushing around the house to finish last minute things. These were silly things that would take no time at all, but things that were making me hysterical none the less. Heather, my best friend, heard Burke trying to get me back to bed and she came to join us and help him out,
“Is everything ok?”
“No, I still have to wash all these jars, and fill them with rocks, and finish the pasta salad, and cut Burke’s hair, and get all the soda loaded into the cooler, and…” I sobbed
“Everything will be fine, you have all of us here to help you in the morning, we will get everything done.” She countered.
“There’s really not that much to do, honey. It only takes you ten minutes to cut my hair, and it won’t take any time at all to wash and fill the jars. Chad and I can do the food stuff while you guys are out getting ready in the morning, just calm down and let’s get some sleep.” Burke said, while I’m sure he is wishing he could just