We took another road trip last week; this time up to
Portsmouth, New Hampshire
Attended another New England wedding.
And spent another week recovering from all the revelry.
Yeah...
Revelry and I don’t get along, these days.
Not that I’m over revelious...(don’t try looking that
up)...it’s just that revelry tends to cut into my nap time, which we covered in our last episode.
So there’s that.
But as weddings go, this was a good one, and I’m two for two with weddings this year, both of which have been a lot of fun...and, did I
mention, on the road.
Which makes dancing a bit dodgy, what with traffic and all.
Right.
Anyway, old friend Courtney got herself hitched to new
friend Matt, which, to be honest, was something that caught most of us by
surprise.
For no other reason than we thought the insurance premiums
necessary to cover a lifetime with Courtney would prove to be a deal breaker for
any potential nuptial candidate.
But apparently not for Matt, who I believe has an Uncle in the
business who ran a favorable risk assessment...but also bet everything on
Cleveland to win the series, after
they went up 3 games to 1.
Nah...I’m kidding. Courtney’s great...no risk at all...for
the most part.
In fact, I’ve known Courtney almost since the day she was born.
I would have known her since the actual day she was born but, shortly afterwards, within the hour, she’d
found a hang gliding place and was up up and away.
Then she immediately hopped on a plane to Ireland and started
pub hopping in Dublin.
So I had to wait a bit for introductions.
You think I’m exaggerating, right?
Okay, sure...maybe a bit.
Of course a newborn isn’t bolting the hospital within the
hour to go hang gliding and globetrotting.
Where would she get the resources?
No, I admit it wasn’t within the hour. She waited until
after lunch for her birth certificate to dry, which was necessary in order to get
the “newborn” rate on airfare; plus the fake ID’s for drinking took longer than
expected.
However, the fact she was born with her mom’s credit card in
her hand facilitated things, even though it made for a long night for mom...not
to mention a long couple of decades for dad.
That’s just how this Little Pink Ball of Terror always was
and still is.
Never one to sit still for too long, let alone have nothing
to say....
She’s always had something to say...still does, and, if for
some reason she doesn’t, she’ll just say what she thinks you should say...and
for the most part she’d be right.
Which is annoying....
What...too harsh?
Okay, there might have been a few times over the years when
she did sit still, and did remain quiet for an hour here or there, but only
when I bribed her with a dollar.
A practice that apparently still works.
I call her the Little Pink Ball of Terror because, when she
was about 3 years old, her dad would drop by the house to watch football—or
something else guys watch on weekend afternoons—and as an added bonus to the case
of beer he pulled from the back seat, out would roll this little puffy pink
ball.
Now, having spent more than a few afternoon’s with this
particular little pink ball, I knew exactly what was in store, so as she skipped
up to the door I immediately jumped to my feet and knocked over every glass in
the house and any other item that wasn’t screwed to the wall or floor.
It just seemed to save time.
But, in all fairness, it wasn’t because Courtney was
or is clumsy. She’s actually proven herself to be quiet an accomplished athlete,
with or without the casts.
No, it’s more because she’s so super-active she’s always
thinking 3 steps ahead of where she is, or what she’s actually doing; already
on to the next great adventure before the current one is over.
So if she’s playing softball and a fly ball is hit in her
direction she may end up catching the ball with her eye socket instead of her
glove, because she’s probably wondering if her sky diving permit has arrived.
Or if those traffic cams really do show a clear picture of
who’s actually driving the car.
And of course she might be wondering if anyone else ever
sprained both their ankles during a crew meet...or gave themselves two black
and swollen eyes by walking into a pole, while texting at the mall...a week before their
wedding.
Hey, it happens...at least it did and apparently still does
to this Little Pink Ball of Terror.
So it only seems fitting that a short while back, her then soon
to be husband, broke his wrist, playing softball, sliding into second base...feet
first.
I guess it’s only natural that the Little Pink Ball of
Terror would find herself a Little Blue Ball of Terror to balance things out.
Plus they’re both up to date on their First Aide training,
which is a win win.
All in all, I’m happy to report the wedding went off without
a hitch or serious injury—of any significance—since we all spilled our champagne
during the toast.
The bride and groom spent an idyllic evening gliding gracefully
across the dance floor, bringing to mind the elegant stylings of Fred and
Ethel...uhm, I mean Fred and Ginger.
A fairytale wedding if ever there was one...I’m sure exactly
the way Courtney always dreamed it would be.
And why not?
Courtney has always made her dreams come true...and I don’t
think she’s going to stop any time soon.
That’s what Little Pink Balls of Terror do.
Something we can all admire and aspire to.
Which bodes well for Matt.
He’s in for quite the adventure...and as long as he keeps a
heathy supply of dollar bills nearby he’ll be fine...for the most part.
On a cliff...really?
______________________________________
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what a beautiful photo on the cliff!!!!
ReplyDeletecongrats to the pink and blue balls of terror! much happiness to them. and weren't you a lucky duck to have watched this ball of fire grow up!
i hope her head healed in time for the gala....
have fun celebrating again, brian!
Everyone is all healed and doing well...including me. Yes, quite the lucky duck once I stocked up on a few dozen cases of Resolve carpet cleaner!
ReplyDeletehard wood is easier to clean... just sayin'
Delete