Or, maybe a bunch of his friends played a ruckus game of bocce intensified by an open bar on the night before the wedding.
Either way, I always have a great time with his high school friends, and even better time with their wives. The night before the wedding we all hung out at an outside bar downtown for cocktails and cockeyed grainy iPhone kissing pictures.
|I'm ashamed to say my chin upstages his beard. Yikes!|
|Class act, I tell you. Yeah, they don't let us out often.|
We went to the wedding with Eric's best childhood friend (J) and his wife (A) who flew in from Chi-town. They stayed at our house for the weekend, and in addition to a luxurious stay on a trundle bed, we also gave them loads of free birth control (generic brand: Miles and Felix). Gus is still a total ovary stimulator. I give it 9 more months before I look into toddler boarding school.
What is nice is that A leads the Nordstrom's hand bag department (bee tee dubs, do NOT say the "p" word; hand bag it is), and she was a great barometer of "what I should dress like if I didn't have kids and an empty wallet." Not only did she look like a million bucks with perfectly in style clothing, hand bags and shoes, but she also got her husband into some cool kicks for the wedding, which totally upstaged my black wedges from 2003. (DSW, what what?)
|Now, if my chin and J's shoes were next to one another, jury is out on who would get the most attention.|
|FYI, above our heads is an enormous serpent made out of succulent plants and other greenery. Insane in the membrane.|
|Happy Couples! And yes, my dress was a $5.95 number from Goodwill.|
The weekend was fun, and somehow we also managed to fit in a birthday party, fall festival, cross country meet, 6 month check up, flu shot, and parenting class. So, yeah, we are exhausted.
(updated from original writing of the post) But nothing helps with that exhaustion like a feverish 3 year old expelling particulate and liquid matter from his mouth and bottom.
Next up: my best friend from growing up visiting this weekend! I sense less bocce, and more meat. (Paleo joke.)