On this day eight incredible years ago, Hubs and I
quit living in sin got married. Surrounded by our families and closest friends, we spoke our own vows and became one under the chuppa (for you non-Jews, that’s the marriage canopy we are standing underneath in the photo below).
This may be my favorite photo of us—taken as we were leaving the ballroom after the ceremony’s completion:
It was a beautiful evening
marred only by my maid of honor’s toast in which she warned Hubs about that time I tripped and fell unconscious in gym class but due to the inebriated state of several people who shall remain nameless, I fell off my chair during the horah. I thought you might find these photos ridiculously funny rather endearing. No bride should have to feel or look like this on her wedding day (please note my bulging bicep muscles as I grip the chair–although you may be slightly distracted by the fake bosoms sewn into the bodice of my dress):
If you look carefully in the background, you’ll notice my husband is clearly happy and laughing and enjoying himself whilst his beloved bride is experiencing sheer terror. Now I want you to have the full effect and see just how un-level my chair was at this point. This is not a 90-degree angle, people:
Seriously. Look at me. I’m holding on for DEAR LIFE. C’mon, guys, SOBER UP! And while I am not a tiny woman, it’s not like I weighed 500 pounds and was expecting you to hold me up for an hour. Clearly you need to get yourselves to a gym and pump some iron!
I was trying to grab the other end of the handkerchief, but couldn’t continue to hold myself upon the chair with my one remaining arm (oh that I were an octopus!). Consequently, I fell off the chair and onto the floor, flashing my lacy white skivvies to the entire ballroom. Fortunately our photographer either failed to capture me in all my nekkid glory, or he destroyed the proofs and never showed them to me.
Happy Anniversary, my love!