It was a fun weekend at the Carpool’s house. The festivities kicked off with a yummy brunch Friday morning with my friends from Sunday School at Melissa’s house where apparently I was the last person to have ever tasted Paula Deen’s French toast casserole.
“Delicious” doesn’t even begin to do it justice.
I may or may not have consumed seconds while enlisting the help of the assembled sisterhood in deciding if I should wear black shoes or red shoes with the new dress I bought to wear to a fancy schmancy wedding Saturday night and whether nude or black hose were appropriate because I cannot be trusted with dress-up decisions because a) those functions occur infrequently, and b) my wardrobe generally consists of yoga pants in various states of stretch.
This was the picture I took in the dressing room and texted to Amy to get her opinion. We always virtual shop together since I am not to make fashion decisions alone.
The collective wisdom was black hose, black shoes which I kinda’ figured but I was dreading that confirmation because my dressy shoes are a half-size too small but they were Stuart Weitzman’s and on a ridiculous sale and I didn’t want to pass up the opportunity so I bought them and only bring them out on occasions where I know I won’t have to stand for more than an hour.
I waited until the very last minute to put them on and was surprised that they fit a little better than I expected
which I think is due to the fact that I lost almost fifty pounds and grabbed a flimsy thin wrap because Craig told me, “Oh, I think the wedding is in a tent outside” which would have been good information BEFORE I BOUGHT A SLEEVELESS DRESS and went to the wedding and froze my patootie off the whole night.
The reception was gorgeous. Kipling (isn’t that a beautiful name?) chose white hydrangeas for her flowers and they were scattered throughout the reception hall. The table centerpieces were stunning. I tried to surreptitiously take a picture here and there but the lighting was low and, well, iPhone, but you can get the gist. The tea-lights hanging from the branches were my favorite.
I told Craig that when we hit our 20th wedding anniversary (or most likely 25th since by then the boys will HOPEFULLY be out of college and we’ll have money again), I wanted to do a blowout reception and invite all our friends and dance the night away and he said that was fine as long as he got to eat because it’s only been fifteen years since we were married and he’s still harping about the fact that he was too busy socializing to eat the Swedish meatballs he had specifically requested for the reception.
And a good time was had by all.
Have a nice day.