This is one of our wedding pictures. Nice, huh? I really like all of them, and we have a whole book full. My supremely talented brother-in-law took them and you can tell he’s good because I don’t look like an ogre OR a haggard wretch, which are the two most common results when I have my picture taken. I like to delude myself into thinking I have a fairly pleasant countenance, but one could be forgiven for not realizing this after looking at almost every single picture ever taken of me. I bring this up for a reason. I mean a real one, not just to boast about my beautiful wedding pictures.
The other day, Weston asked me what would happen if people weren’t married but lived together long enough to have a baby. I’m not sure what thought process prompted the question but I tried to provide a suitable answer. A few hours went by and he asked me if Lloyd and I were married or if we just lived together. I assured him that, indeed, we are married, and brought out the album so he could see the pictures. The book starts out with pictures of us getting ready, and there is one of me in hot rollers. ‘WHAT ARE THOSE?!?!?!’ he shrieked. I explained, and then he turned the page. ‘Are you wearing MAKEUP?!?!?!?’ He then informed me that the makeup make me look wrinkly and old and that my dress was outrageous and ridiculous. For the record, my wearing makeup has met with his enthusiastic approval in the past, so I’m not really sure what’s up with that. Also, I am quite unclear on how I could look older and more wrinkly in a picture taken more than ten years ago than I do today, regardless of how much makeup I had spackled on. Hey! Maybe my recent bathroom renovations are paying off already! You know, when I smashed the mirror AND the lightbulbs in there. He later doubled down on these comments, adding that I looked hideous and disgusting in the pictures.
As depressing as that was, I think I might have a bigger problem. Lately I have fielded MANY questions about why people who are related can’t get married. I tried to explain about the crossed eyes, the banjos and West Virginia, but it didn’t seem to sink in. In fact, he said, ‘ I LIKE banjos!’ I'm not sure who he has in mind, but I've always planned for him to marry a little charmer named Ella. She's cute and brilliant and we're very fond of her. One of the favored dolls around here is named after her, so that seems promising. Another point in her favor is that we are not related in any way to her wonderful family*. I can lower my expectations, if I have to, but we could definitely benefit from improvements to the Dead Cat Family gene pool. I don't want a bunch of ugly grandchildren, after all.
*if you clicked on the link to the story where my makeup was pleasant surprise, please note that the more attractive friend/neighbor was Ella's mother. They are both lovely in every way, as is the rest of their family.