Unpleasant things I have done today:
Clean cat barf off of Lucy's precious Project Pile.
Remove a very very dead mouse from downstairs.
Under normal circumstances I would have scooped up the top strata of project pile (a heap of cut papers, doilies, stickers and whatnot) and thrown it all away, except I promised Lucy I would not move a single thing when she went to bed. So I had to make it look as though nothing had happened. Vile.
And although the dead mouse was not even mine, it is unthinkable to make one's pregnant niece handle deceased vermin. Although now that I think of it, since the causative cat was hers before he was ours, both the mouse and the barf are hers. I do believe she owes me. And I would call her on it if it weren't for the
Pleasant things I have done today:
Go to a wedding.
Pack off my children to visit my cousins' farm while I was at said wedding.
The first several weddings I remember going to were big formal affairs which were really just thinly veiled networking opportunities for the fathers of the brides. The last several weddings I've been to, however, have been completely different. Today, for instance, I had the distinct impression that I was invited on purpose. Which is good, because I had to drive across the whole freaking state to get there.
I got a little misty when I saw where the ceremony was going to take place: in an atrium, with clusters of armchairs, loveseats and sidechairs lined up around a trellis. And then the couple's oldest son walked down the aisle and I started to snivel. He's Lucy's first ever best friend (she does not remember since they moved away when she was two, but I still hold him near and dear). And then my friend appeared and, kid you not, she looked like a Disney princess. Good thing I remembered to pack a hankie.
Meanwhile, my kids were on their way over to the next town to visit my aunt and uncle (who are actually my cousins.* Here we go again with the familial vagaries). Lucy says if I give my aunt my vidalia onion dip recipe maybe she will tell me how to make corn pie. Lucy also denied seeing any cows, but reported the presence of "heifers." She tells me they were fuzzy. And there was a bull, too, but she didn't recognize that either because one time she asked me what a bull was and I made something up and told her they could maybe be black or brown. This one was white with black, and so could not possibly be a bull. Again, we are not homeschooling.
Bulls can be white with black. Cows can be fuzzy. It's a lesson in agriculture by golly.
Meanwhile, back at the wedding, I am watching a couple who has been together for seven years and had two kids together practically skip down the aisle. Honestly? There were times when I wasn't sure it was a good idea. She is earnest, kind-hearted and gullible. He's a prankster and would mess with her mercilessly. In fact, he messed with everyone. There was that time when I first visited their new home and he offered to drive in front of me so I could find my way back to the highway. I was sure I'd be escorted to the Canadian border. I think I was only safe because I thought of it first.
Here's what I have learned about my friend's husband:
He can make it through an entire set of wedding vows without cracking a joke but he cannot do it without crying.
He can be trusted with a small piece of wedding cake aimed at his wife.
After my kids had eaten Key Lime pie at the farm and I had finished up my wedding cake, we reconvened so Lucy could say hi to her friend (blank stares from both of them) and oggle the bride (stunned speechless).
I was chatting on the phone on our way home and mentioned the bit about the bride looking like a princess. From the backseat, Lucy said "she did not. She was prettier."
* I mean this in the "people we call aunt and uncle who aren't actually aunts and uncles" sense, not in the "my aunt and uncle are also my cousins" sense.