Sweet Marie is getting married on Saturday. I’ve known this now for a year. My initial responses haven’t changed. I like the guy a lot, but my God, what is she thinking? She only 22! And two, what in the world am I going to wear (which proves I do have some womanly attributes, albeit few.)
Even my hero Darwin got sucked up into the marriage thing. But he, being the detail-oriented sort, made a list of the pros and cons. On the plus side he was interested in a companion, and wrote that he considered a wife better than a dog. He thought that constant work would make him like a neuter bee. He wanted to be beloved and played with. He wanted a couple of kids. Well, okay. On the minus side he listed the loss of his freedom, being forced to visit relatives, having less money for books (gasp), and if he had too many children, being forced to work hard, which he found really not healthy at all. He was also very concerned about the terrible loss of time that would result from having a wife. In the end he married, though. He kept imagining his dirty, smoky house in London and thinking it just wouldn’t do. He had to juggle a very religious wife with his increasingly nonreligious views, but nonetheless he needed her. Jeez. I don’t think it can get much more complicated.
So, I guess Marie is going to get married and I might as well be happy about it. I’m still not sure what I’m going to wear. The wedding is outside, with canoeing and volley ball in between the ceremony and the reception, so maybe if I got one of those body shaper things to go under a dress it could double for a swimming suit and something to keep me tied down for volley ball. Of course, that means I should buy a dress. I have a feeling I’m going to be out dressed by the family’s two dogs, who will be attending, dressed in a tux and a wedding gown. I understand that Marie is wearing Crocs under her wedding gown. I’ll have the complete report on Monday. Maybe my writer’s block will come to an end.