5 Duke of Cornwall Dr. Markham ON [email protected]

As many of you know, my 23-year-old daughter Curly Girl is getting married. In a few days. So, last night I spent an exciting pre-wedding evening, devoting several hours to untangling fake sunflower garlands to put on the dinner tables at her wedding venue, while watching old episodes of “Father Brown” and a depressing movie called “Friends With Money.” This is the kind of exciting celebrity life I have.

This movie was a downer partly because all the characters were depressed — even the rich ones — and also because I don’t have any money, so I don’t need to watch rich people cavort unhappily with each other. I especially don’t have any money now, because I’ve just plunked down a good portion of my retirement account to pay for this upcoming wedding. I hope my daughter realizes this means I’ll be moving in with her when I run out of cash.

Since the wedding is in less than a week, I keep thinking there will be a point in which I stop spending money. But this is simply a hallucination caused by too many drugs in college. Every time I think, “OK, whew, I’m done,” I realize it’s going to be cold up at her mountain venue, so of course I have to order the girl a fake fur shrug to wear over her wedding dress so she doesn’t turn blue.

Then, there’s the liquor. At our venue, you bring your own beer and wine, which is great because I’m paying $4.99 a bottle instead of $42 at one of those fancy places. After I’d already bought some 137 cases of white wine, red wine, sweet wine, dry wine, Sangria and such, not to mention the beer, the bride and groom mentioned the other day that their friends all drink White Claw hard seltzer, so we should get some White Claw. As in, a LOT of White Claw.

Great. So who’s going to drink all that wine? Well, OK, I will, but still. Someone could have mentioned the words “White Claw” before I bought $1,800 worth of fermented grape juice.

This afternoon, Curly Girl is going to bring over the seating chart. Apparently I’m supposed to sit at the “family table.” Well, I don’t want to sit with my family. I have to see those people all the time anyway. I want to sit with my friends who’ve flown from all over to attend this event. Is that wrong? I don’t think so. I’m doing it even if it is.

My daughter is demanding that everyone who’s coming has to wear black, so she can shine in her white wedding dress. I find this annoying, but I went along with it. She also banned all children under the age of 10, which means that a set of family friends who are important to me were so miffed they couldn’t bring their new baby that now they’re boycotting the wedding. They’d even already bought matching black outfits to wear. I was really upset about this, but I finally decided just to bless it and release it.

The wedding is up at a beautiful outdoor venue in Mt. Baldy, which is located nine miles above Claremont. It’s not difficult to drive up and back in a day, but many of my friends and the entire bridal party are staying up for the weekend. This has created a lot of stress figuring out who goes where, because there’s almost no lodging up there. And I’m pretty sure at this point I’ve booked all of it. The upside of this is that I’m pretty sure it’s going to be tons of fun for days. Though I expect to be in my bed in the rental cabin in a coma after Saturday night. Hopefully people will drop by occasionally and bring me food.

If you read last week’s column, you know that I just got stuck in London with my nephew, who came down with a mild case of COVID-19, so we had to delay our flights home for five days. London isn’t the worst city to be stuck in, and the travel insurance paid the bills, but I did start panicking at one point that I might not make it home in time for the Big Day. However, here I am, all the wedding garlands are sorted out and I only have 36 rustic centerpieces to make by Saturday.

This is a huge occasion for me, not only because Curly Girl is my only daughter, but because when I was very sick not long ago, I really didn’t think I’d be around long enough to see this day. (Wiping a tear away.) But, here I am, as mean as ever, and I even plan to dance to the DJ, though I’m still rather gimpy.

Curly Girl informed me a few days ago that she’d lost the list I gave her of dance songs I wanted the DJ to play, and I can’t help wondering if that was actually an accident. She felt that she was entitled to pick all the songs for the entire event, since it’s “her wedding.” But I pointed out to her that I’m paying for this event, and she’ll be getting all the good presents from my friends, so we will be dancing to music that we like, not just songs that sound like squirrels on speed.

Besides, who doesn’t like Motown and the Beatles?  So after I finish writing this, I have to sit down and recreate my dance list for her. Some of those songs better be played this weekend. I need my Rolling Stones.

Meanwhile, I just found out that Curly Girl’s birth mother, who lives in another state, is planning to show up at the wedding. She was invited, but no one expected her to come. Hmm. Let’s bring on the drama.  Stay tuned.

 

 

 

 

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