“The Party Of The Century!”

The new Mr. and Mrs. Bryce Stewart
Phew, what a week-and-a-half it’s been. I’ve hardly had two spare moments to rub together since last Thursday, the day chosen for my brother’s bachelor party. I left work early that day, helped my wife out with some last-minute packing and then conveyed Stewarts, The Next Generation to my parents’ place. We left Will behind with Grandma and Grandpa and headed out to the bachelor/bachelorette parties (previously mentioned ,a href=”http://literalbarrage.org/blog/archives/2006/05/26/my-breath-tastes-like-armpit/”>here). Well, my wife went directly to her party. My brothers, the other groomsmen and I had to stop by the tux place to pick up our wedding suits before heading off to the restaurant, which delayed us by about an hour. I ended up having a good time and having a good long talk with my brother about marriage and life in general, which was great. Being separated by only 22 months, Bryce and I used to fight like crazy and never really got along as kids. Things have been much better between us since I left for college and last Thursday was a really cool moment in our history of reconciliation.
Friday was spent primarily getting ready for the wedding, with my wife hitting the nail salon (along with my mother, sister and aunt) for pedi/manicures and then a run to the King of Prussia Mall to grab some last minute items. The rehearsal was that night, which allowed us to meet Bryce’s in-laws for the first time. We had a good time, although my parents’ church isn’t air-conditioned, meaning that the rehearsal, and the rehearsal dinner, which was held in another area of the church were, well, warm affairs. My brother ended up giving all of his groomsmen silver Zippo lighters with their names engraved on them, which was only half of the gift – he gave us all Romeo Y Julietta Churchills at the reception the following night.
Saturday dawned bright, early and warm. The wedding was a beautiful one, although once again, it was H-O-T hot in the sanctuary. I was sweating (of course) as was apparently the entire rest of the bridal party, perhaps excepting the bride herself. After the ceremony, we headed to Historic Waynesboro for the reception, which ended up being one of the best wedding receptions I’ve ever attended. The band my brother and now-sister-in-law chose was extremely talented and played a wide-ranging set, from Jackson 5 covers to Harry Belafonte to Beyonce. The open bar was utilized, but not heavily, meaning no annoying drunks ruining the party and the dance floor was nigh constantly filled, with even my grandparents taking a turn on the floor. The only downside was the main course selection – the choice was between veal and red snapper. The food itself was good, but apparently not a single other soul at the reception was a UHF fan, as my “Red snapper, very tasty!” elicited only confused glances and a withering look from my wife (no fan of Weird Al, she…). I smoked about half of the cigar my brother gave me and then danced the night away with the other revelers. Then, it was back to my parents’ to crash.
We went to church Sunday morning and then had lunch with my paternal aunts and grandmother who had come in from as far away as California. It was good to see them and get a chance to talk with them, since distance dictates that we see them so infrequently. We finally headed home that evening to sleep in our own beds, only to rise the next day and make our way to Lancaster for Memorial Day festivities with my mom’s side of the family. It was good to see everyone, but we were ever so glad to make it home Monday evening and crash face-first into our pillows. We had a great time, but are still plum tuckered out from the whole 5 day affair.

3 Comments

I still don’t get how your brother landed such a stunning bride. I mean c’mon, this is the kid that is the cause of my head getting bashed into your passenger side window and mastered the “most annoying sound in the world”!!! I think someone is paying her to put up with him. Like that show where the fiancee was an actor paid to see how far the bride would go before cracking.