As the wedding approaches, I have noticed that I am short on patience and quicker to anger about little bullshit things. This is all about anxiety. I know that. I'm cool with how things are going, and happy that Kyle and Brandy are getting married. But I am riddled with the nagging details of the parent. I was relegated to cook 30 pounds of lil' smokies, but in conversation with the son tonight, found out that I was free of that task. They did not have the funds for it and opted to remove them from the menu. ( on an aside I asked him how many people he expected, and it was around 40...like I said, fucking potheads.
In our conversation tonight I asked him in rapid fire: Who is the best man? Well...that was a no brainer, it's Allen, his best bud since T ball. Who is the photographer? They are handing out disposable cameras to people...While this is cool, I will blow the dust off my SLR and buy some film. Who is giving Brandy away? No one. Her Dad passed awhile back, and they just planned to walk down the trail together.
I offered to stand in, if they wanted. I think it would be cool to give Brandy away, and be a nice way to consolidate her entry into this end of the family. But, whatever they want, you know? it's about them and their new life together, after all.
God damn! I sound like a fucking hen don't I ?
46 hours and counting...Ramping up.
Ann and I covered the wedding bands, and maybe that's enough. I don't know. I've never had a child of mine marry before. I'm a bit unsettled.
But when Kyle asked if I'd school him and Brandy on shooting a .410, I was a bit relieved. Home protection. I can help keep them safe at least.
46 hours and counting.