The Wedding of My Dreams

I was married in 1960. So was my boyfriend. Only not to each other. I didn't have a real wedding. We eloped.

So I'm thinking about the wedding of my dreams. You're all invited.

I'm thinking a mountain top. Maybe even the Himalayas. We could all fly over to this spot I've been researching. Well, we'd have to switch planes a couple of times, ending up in a Piper Apache. And then just a wee bit of hiking. Some of you wouldn't be up to that so you could rent Llamas.

I will wear silk and my bridegroom would wear a powder blue Nehru Jacket. I want all of my Power Rangers to be bridesmaids and wear long purple dresses with big puffy sleeves. Oh, and I promised my son's mother in law years ago that if I ever remarried she could be a bridesmaid too - and also a lady I met last week at the restaurant where we eat soup. I promised her as well.

I sometimes feel like I've spent my entire life trying to make other people happy. It's about time I turned into Bridezilla.

Yes, the above is all a bunch of nonsense. We ARE getting married but it will be a very small family affair.

So I will no longer refer to this precious man as my boyfriend. We are betrothed.


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