Sunday, September 5, 2010

Dry run...

In case you missed my Facebook post yesterday, I sent my man out to a wedding alone. I was feeling like I needed to be here for the kids after all the running around I did last week. My new BFF, Fran, came over and did my hair, John got dressed and out the door. He would attend the ceremony and come back to get me for the reception.

Perfect plan...

or at least it was until he got to the empty church...yeah, the wedding is on the 5th of Urt.

Thank God he was a good sport, but unfortunately, it means I have to go to the whole thing today. Kids, you are on your own!

Since I had extra time, I got to fret all over again about what I would wear to the wedding. I tried on every dress in the closet and modeled them for my teenagers and I remember why I went wedding dress shopping alone. At the time I tried on three dresses and bought the third one.

Dress number one, full length, teal:
Brennan: "Too low. Are you going to wear a cami underneath?"
Liz: "Too hoochy-mama."
John: "It's a little too formal."
Caity: "You look so beautiful!"

Dress number two, above the knee, black, swing dress:
Liz: "It makes you look skinny but your legs are too pale."
Brennan: "I don't like it."
John: "It's awful black. Yes, like you are going to a madam's funeral."
Caity: "You look so beautiful!:

Dress number three, tiered skirt, halter top:
Liz: "Gives you back fat."
Brennan: "You look like you are going to do the Mexican Hat Dance."
John: "It's fine."
Caity: "You look so beautiful."
Jack: "Let's dance!"

Dress number three, little black dress, and I mean the perfect little black dress!
Liz: "Yup. That looks great."
Brennan: "Wear that one!:
John: "Yeah, it's good."
Caity: "I don't know..."
Jack: "Can we do the Mexican Hat Dance again?"

Okay, I made my decision. Little black dress it is. Run to Macy's, throw our fiscal responsibility to the wind. Buy stockings...
No, I don't need the "D" size. Thanks for asking girls.
Yes, the four inch pumps are a little high. Never stopped me before. Yes, I can walk in them.

Seriously? How dare they even ask!

(Okay, between you and me: Oh my word they are high! Did my knee always hurt when I walked in hooker pumps? No, this is new...they were on sale, I got them anyway. Besides, they are closed know what I mean. I don't have to glue on new toe nails to wear them! Duh.)

Put the whole thing on and showed the man...

He stared at the shoes with that look...not the good one, like "WOW! You look amazing!" more like the "I am going to have to carry her home after she cripples herself." Ah-huh.

...and then he said: "Well, no one will mistake you for the bride."

Sigh...I still don't know what I am wearing.

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