Saturday - The Reception

Woke up to my mother who’s as light footed as an elephant, stomping around the kitchen, preparing breakfast at 7am. Ugh. Sometimes I swear if I had a gun, it would definitely get used prior to 10am. The puppy was going mad to get outside and chase frogs, so I let him out, encouraged mom to go outside and relax with a book and was back to the couch by 7:20.

At 7:25 it was like a comedy routine started. First, grandpa went by on his way to the bathroom, coughing loudly. Next was dad, looking for mom, asking me loudly where she was. Then my sister was up, rummaging for food. Then mom is yelling at her from outside that breakfast is in the oven and dad is shushing them because I’m sleeping. Which of course I’m not, I’m seething. Next the dog is barking and they’re all shouting to shut it up.

I got up.

Before long the Ya-ya’s are all back to help decorate and by 11am (surprisingly after breakfast) my mother has her first bottle of wine opened. We put the finishing touches on the tent area, I resist the urge to suck helium and sing songs from the wizard of oz and everyone gets into their fancy clothes. I of course haven’t even considered fancy clothes and am wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Figures. The porta potty (or the blue loo as it gets lovingly referred to for the rest of the night) gets delivered, the caterers arrive, and the bar is stocked. There is this buzz of excitement in the air that I can feel and my response to it is beer. Thank you Alexander Kieths.

People seemed to arrive all at once, I hugged, and smiled and gave the same answer to ‘what are you up to these days’? over and over again. It’s fun to actually have a decent GUJ for once that’s going somewhere, people seem impressed, of course they also have no idea what I’m talking about so it usually shuts down the conversation pretty quickly. Drinks and conversation flowed, I was able to sit at the ‘kids’ table occasionally. We’re hardly kids anymore though. All of us have grown up together at different points of our lives. When I was in high school I lived next to Jenn and we were inseparable, the sister I really wanted. Now she’s married, with a dog and has bought a house – a complete grownup. Em and her husband were there too, Em wearing dress pants that were TDF (to die for). She’d obviously received the fancy clothes memo that I hadn’t, even her hubby wore a tie. My ‘god sisters’ (the daughters of my godparents) who I’ve known since they were in diapers both in their early 20’s now and each guzzling beers like pro’s. The list went on, all the kids I grew up with, wore slouch socks and ate candy with, we all sat and drank and joked about the ‘old days’ together of wearing slouch socks, recreating NKOTB music video’s and causing trouble. I couldn’t help thinking to myself that they’d probably be more appropriately titled ‘the young days’ as we all slowly approach 30.

Dinner was served, I chatted with Jen’s parents, who had been my second parents in high school when I went through (hmm maybe am still going through) the ‘I hate my mother’ phase. Jen’s mom is by far the nicest, best mom I’ve ever met. A definite role model for me, and makes me really look forward to Jenn’s kids. She’s had a good example. Whereas I on the other hand will probably get locked up for making my kids sleep in a dog house or something. Drawers are ok right?

After dinner, the in-laws performed this ‘making you an official newfie’ ceremony, which was pretty funny. The funniest part though for me was that the yellow rain hat that they jokingly put on my sisters head, seemed to stay there all night. Like she thought it was the missing link to her wardrobe. Sadly, her wardrobe consists entirely of clothes from Tabi and my high school castoffs. How on earth did she marry before I did?

People started to head home around 6 but the ya-ya’s and family hung around. Em and I drank a lot of beer, Scott and I smoked cigarettes and discussed how much better our lives would be if we had been brother and sister. A bomb fire was lit curtusy of a cup of gasolie and a cigarette and lots of laughing on scott and my part, the music was cranked, the party kept on going.

More people left, Em and I kept drinking. Scott and I kept smoking.

And then it happened. I was on my zillionth trek from the bar to the bomb fire where we had been chatting with various parents, friends of family and relatives. It was pitch black but I instantly saw that Em was missing. As I walked up, I said ‘Where did Em go?’ terrified that she had gone to bed. I can’t party without her. Her mom replied ‘she’s puking over there’ and pointed in the direction of the Blue Loo. I looked over and sure enough, there she was, hunched over, in the driveway, barfing. I ran over, to hold her hair back and of course laugh with her a bit. It’s not too often she gets that sick. I ran to get her some water and inform the hubby that he may need to put her to bed. He laughed and shook his head in the way that only a loving husband can do, we giggled a bit and quicker than I could stop the puppy from eating her regurged corn on the cobb they were gone.

Scott and I realized that there was no longer a bartender but the bar was fully stocked. We pulled up 2 chairs, a cribbage board, 2 glasses and an ashtray. We played cards, drank, smoked and chatted until everyone was heading to bed. We’d drunk all the vodka and had started on the gin so it was a bit difficult to stand up when my uncle came back to get him to bed. We hugged our goodbyes and I hit the couch again in the wee hours of the night, the room slightly spinning as I closed my eyes. But a grin firmly planted on my face.