Last week, the invitations went out. The Wife To Be has been informing me daily of the RSVP count. Also last week, the Wife To Be and I went down to the local courthouse and picked up the marriage license. This, of course, necessitated me leaving all my toys in the car. The deputy manning the metal detector asked me to open my little urban kit. When I showed him the contents, he thought my urban kit was nifty.
We also paid off the venue, and then got me outfitted with a new suit. I’ve needed a new suit since none of my other formal clothes fit me anymore. We also splurged on a pair of fancy dress boots. Because I hate laces, even on my formal shoes.
The Wife To Be harried off to Plant City for flowers. She’s considerate enough to understand that I’m not really interested in making floral decisions, but to also take my preferences into consideration.
I have been delegated the task of setting up the wedding playlist. I love technology. It means we don’t have to spend money on a DJ. Especially for a casual reception. The Wife To Be bombarded me with requests, which I duly included, and asked if I would please not make the rest of it metal. I’ve included some metal (because it’s my wedding too), but I’ve duly followed her wishes.
Less than six weeks to go. Damn, this business is starting to get serious.