Oh, Ma! Oh, Pa!

The day after (wasn't that a movie? )... my cousin's wedding.

The ceremony was absolutely breathtaking and picturesque. My cousin looked so handsome with his boyish face, and the bride was beaming.

The trip to the nupitals was a bit harried. Dad did indeed bring his 'bodyguard'-- an old work buddy of his. And yes, he was packin' some heat. Cute little .38! I was smart enough to ride shotgun, because I needed to "assist dad with directions if needed." Plus, the thought of sitting in the backseat with Mom for 45 minutes without alcohol or any place to escape was a punishment no one deserves. My ticket to Heaven has already been punched, so why torture myself?

I knew my Dad was hard of hearing, but I didn't realize I needed to shout. All the time. So, we have mumbling Mom in the backseat trying to converse with Dad, who is shouting and not paying attention to the road. I finally convinced Dad that it was okay to go slightly above the speed limit so we could actually make it to the wedding on time.

Unfortunately, there was time to kill between the wedding and reception. I was gonna hang at the parental ranch, but realized, I needed a break. Whew! Sanity for an hour!

Then the reception. Dad confronted the photographer because everyone was told he never showed to do pictures at one location, and everyone was up-in-arms. Dad barked, "Hey, Asshole, why didn't you show up like you were supposed to, you..." The photog, sensing his impending death, corrected Dad. The limo driver is actually the one who abandoned the newlyweds. Somehow, they made it to the reception via bus. But fear not, we will track down the limo driver and serve a little justice. Dick.

Since Dad's friend was an uninvited guest, my Aunt (mother of the groom) asked who he was. She and my other relatives were waiting for an answer:

Rita: "That's mom's boyfriend. Now that Dad's retired, they've been doing all kinds of freaky things. And they have a lot of latex gloves. So, you know. You're never to old to get your swerve on."

Auntie: "What?"

Rita: "You've read STDs are big with the senior community? I can't believe I had to have the safe sex talk with my parents."

My other relatvies found this funny.... did I mention my Auntie is a strict Baptist. Ooops. Someone was being a smart-ass again!

At least it was open bar. Though I had to settle for Bacardi instead of my buddy the Captain, it did numb the pain of my Mom rambling, stumbling, nearly falling into a candle and "accidentally" grabbing a groomsman's ass.

Thank God I was able to text my bff. She talked me out of walking back home...

Some positives:
1. I got to hear a lot of Dad's "stories" on the way home. I love his stories!
2. I was only asked twice if I had a "man friend," and only once if I wanted to get married again.
3. I will never have to see some of these people again.
4. The whole 9-hour day only sucked one ass ball.

Yaaay!

Now, I need a nap.

xoxo,
RiRi

Oh, Pa!

Weddings. A blissful day, celebrating two people who love each each other until "death do us part." It's a day Hallmark and Kleenex love, but others despise.

Like my Dad.

Dad has always been sarcastic, brutally honest and intimidating to most breathing things. Now add "extra deep-fried temper." (and he's medicated!) This is a lethal, yet entertaining combination.

He's been fretting... check that... slow-burning over my cousin's wedding for several reasons.
#1 Why on Labor Day weekend?
#2 Why on a Sunday? And I quote: "Who fucking does that bullshit?"
#3 Why is the "stupid-ass reception an hour away from the wedding, which even isn't in a church, there's no place to park, and it's in that big city on the Northcoast where scumbags live.....?"

It's my little cousin. And honestly, we'll probably never see him again unless someone croaks. He already knows the arrangements are a little... challenging... cuz a few month ago I asked: "Handed your balls over already? Might as well adjust as soon as possible."

So, Dad calls yesterday out of the blue with a proposition.

DAD: What do you think about renting a limo?
Rita: For what?
DAD: This goddamned fucking wedding I don't want to go to. I'm only going because your Mother and you are. (as if he has no free will.)
Rita: Dad-- that would be really expensive.
DAD: That's not what I asked!
Rita: (almost tinkling in her pants) Sure. Whatever you want.
DAD: Well, I'm not driving my car. It's paid off. I don't know where to park. What if someone hits my car? And, we're taking an armed guard with us.
Rita: What?!?! We're not going into Afghanistan or South Central. This isn't Boyz in The Hood. Please.
DAD: There's nothing but scumbags running around that city.
Rita: Seriously? An armed guard.
DAD: I ain't fucking around.

This from the man that was shot twice in Vietnam. This from the man who stabbed one of his co-workers with a fork in the hand because he made a smart-ass comment about me when I was in high school... Dad may be older, but he's still very large and very much in charge. (As Dad would say: "I may be too old to kick your ass, but you better believe I'm still thinking about it.")

Dad changed his mind about the limo. That's a whole different story.... So, Dad will drive us all to the blessed event... of course, now that he drives completely at the speed limit, it may take a while to get there. I am praying that the reception is open bar. Dad bitchin'; Mom trying to find me a man.... yeah... to quote a friend of mine: "that sucks ass balls." I don't really know what those are or what that means, but I'm presuming it will.

Be kind. Say a prayer.

xoxo,
RiRi