Milk Jug

I selected a particular gallon of milk this week because it had my birthday as the expiration date.

Well, begrudgingly, I had to break down and ask my new job for a day off for my mother’s 5th wedding. Mom is already going to be sooo pissed that I’m not coming down Thursday to help her set up. I have further bad news for her: neither is my sister. We’ve both got brand new jobs and need the money regardless, plus we’ll ride together so whenever I can come down, Jamie will come down too. Oh man…I do not want to have this conversation with mom.

I could use the argument that really all that is important by this time is mom, her husband and their vows, but let’s be real. Mom wants to share it with us too, even if we don’t accept it, and momma likes a show. All I really want to make it for is the reception because hanging out with cousins, grandparents and aunts and uncles with a full bar, all dressed up and a somewhat happy occasion for once, is just what we need.

Frankly, I have no idea why mom picked a Friday to get married in the first place. Pretty much everyone that wants to come has to take off work if they work during the day. I’ll be surprised if that ceremony has anyone at it.

It should be lovely though. It’s in a state park in late summer at sunset…that’s hard to beat for romantic settings. I even have the dress all picked out. A white and black number decorated with martini glasses. Fitting, no? I figure it will give everyone a heads up on what I will be consuming in bulk at the reception to wipe No. 5 from my memory banks.

I guess I’m a little overdramatic about this wedding. However, humor is how I deal with things like this. Humor and cocktails.