The bridal party's day started bright and early at eight a.m. - at least for the females. I secretly think males wake up on the day of their wedding, shower, shave, watch football/basketball/golf, take a nap, watch more sports, then wander down to the ceremony site thirty minutes before the wedding begins. The little devils still manage to look devastatingly handsome, which is completely unfair.
Since I was in the wedding and DH was coming as "designated reception mingler", he was under strict instructions to arrive no later than 4:00 p.m for the 4:30 ceremony. Unfortunately for him, there was some sort of catastrophe that closed the road to the gardens. He called me in a panic.
"Tell J. I'm sorry, but this cop is being a total *bad word* and won't let me through." He moved the phone away from his mouth.
"What if I just drive through? What are you gonna do?" He moved the phone back.
"Apparently, he's going to arrest me if I drive through. "
We gave him (and the many other guests who were being held up) alternate directions and had the coordinator postpone the wedding. Forty-five minutes passed. There was a wedding scheduled after Mrs. Darcy's, so we couldn't wait any longer. Out traipsed the wedding party down the hill, the girls clutching the arms of the men to keep from toppling over in their heels.
From behind us we heard "thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump." As one, we turned.
There was DH and the usher sprinting toward us from the parking lot.
DH slapped my tush as he ran by. "Look great babe. See you in a few J. - you look great too!"
At least the man knows how to make an entrance.
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