Love Handles

We're here.  The day before the wedding!

Ken picked up the cake this morning.  I didn't even get to see what it looks like because it's sealed inside a box.  We opted to leave the box closed in order not to tempt Fate - any unnecessary tampering increases the chances of DROPPING THE CAKE and that is just not worth the stress.

The church lounge is set up with chairs; fresh, white tablecloths; pink napkins (from the dollar store - shhhhh, don't tell!); a sign that says "Please Sign our Guestbook" and an assortment of rainbow markers as well as black pens by the book.

We're going back out in half an hour to pick up the flowers. I can't wait to see my bouquet!  Pretty pretty!

Although I'm trying not to get too excited, in the interests of getting a good sleep tonight.  So I will distract us all with a story:

Ken and I were out window shopping around three weeks ago.  It's our go-to activity for sunny days when we want to be out and about with no clear goal in mind.

We stopped in at Le Chateau, a trendy Canadian clothing retailer.  Poking around there, we saw a very unusual garment: a mini-dress with long, belled sleeves.  The bottom of the cuffs of the dress merged back into the hem of the bottom, for a bizarre effect which make me think of "I'm a little teapot short and stout, here is my handle..." and then here is my other handle, since both arms were attached.

Ken, who loves unusual design, was completely taken by this dress.  He asked me to try it on.  Sure, why not?  There were two versions: a cream one with black polka dots, and one which was entirely covered by a giant print of a black rose.  I preferred the cream with polka-dots, but they didn't have that in my size, so I tried the other one.

When I came out of the dressing room, Ken was instantly prepared to buy the dress for me.  But I thought it was silly.  I was like, Look - I can't raise my hands above waist level without hiking up the dress!  Ken said: wear it with leggings.  It's still undignified, was my response.  He was adamant, but I was more adamant that I would never wear it.  Also, I didn't like the giant black rose.  I said that maybe if the polka-dot one was in my size I might consider it, but that wasn't the case.

So we left it at that.

Two weeks later, we passed by the same store.  Ken checked the rack to see if they had my size back in stock, but they hadn't restocked.  He inquired at the counter: would they be getting more?  The clerk didn't know.  He checked the computer and said that there was only one more polka-dot XS in the entire city of Toronto, at the Yonge and Bloor store.  So we wandered off and I forgot about the dress once again.

On Wednesday night I came home and found a bag sitting on my bed.  What the..?

He didn't.  Yes, he did!

Here I am, modeling the weirdest dress I have ever owned.  It looks pretty good, if I do say so myself!

The bonus is I figured out if I push the sleeves up to my elbows I can raise my hands up higher, so at least I'd be able to open doors, eat, and drink wearing this.  But I won't be going out in public without my thickest black leggings, just in case.  That thing is bound to hike itself up at some point.