My childhood best friend, Hunter, got married
yesterday! I'm so happy for him, especially since his new wife, Melissa, is so great. They got married at the place where
Aaron and I had our own wedding reception, so that was a pretty fun blast from the past. The whole thing got me all sentimental, so I dug out the old photo albums and had to share some of the goodies.
Now, despite my convictions that Hunter is the
lucky one in this relationship, I have to admit that Melissa didn’t do too bad
for herself either. Check out this dapper fellow:
Dressed to the T. Not every man will offer to popper-vacuum the floor, and do it with such flair.
Clearly, this is a go-with-the-flow kind of guy. The look on his face says, “This was not my idea, and I still think it's stupid, but I’ll put up with it."
The whole vacuum-dance thing must have really impressed the lady babies, because Hunter and I had a couple of McDonald’s dates (with our families sitting at the next table). That's when I learned the art of compromise: Hunter wanted to invent a flying car; I wanted to live in the "olden days". We agreed that he could have the flying car, but only if it was hidden in the barn when not in use. And only if we also had a covered wagon and our kids wore overalls. (What? I had a Laura Ingalls Wilder phase. Don’t judge.)
In the words of my mother-in-law, oh for cute.
Later I learned something else about compromise: that sometimes you end up getting what you wanted anyway. Case in point: I ended up marrying a homeschooler from Wisconsin. If that’s not the closest thing to overalls and covered wagons, I don’t know what is.
I don’t know how Hunter’s flying car plans
are coming along, but I'm sure Melissa would support that dream. Or maybe she’s already learned the most valuable compromise
lesson of them all: always agree to the things you know are never actually
going to happen. (You want a flying car, babe? I’m totally on
board.) J
Congratulations, Hunter and Melissa! We love
you both.
No comments:
Post a Comment