The Little Bastard Attends A Wedding − August, 1994
I like to think that my parents finally decided to tie the knot so that their two bastards wouldn't end up psychologically fractured because they hadn't. Of course, neither of us gave much thought to the fact that our parents weren't married, and I didn't see it as being anything other than a completely normal circumstance. It wasn't until some years that it finally occurred to me that most people aren't present for such an event, and the reactions I get when I tell people that I was there does nothing but solidify this view.
I don't remember the date, but I feel like it was some time in August. It was held outside in the center of a raised stone circle that overlooked an expanse of lush grass. The air was comfortable, and an amiable breeze ran its fingers through hair and touched upon faces. I stood with my younger brother beside my aunt and uncle and tried not to look uncomfortable in shoes that were too hard and clothes that were itchy. The priest's voice droned on for what seemed like hours, and I thought it a terrible method for uniting two people for the rest of their lives.
Finally, it came time for the pair to kiss and seal the deal. I paid attention then, one reason being because I had never seen this iconic moment in person before, but also because I knew that it was almost over, and I was starving. My parents kissed, and were finally wed. Afterwords, as I was climbing into the car I noticed that someone had tied a balloon to the antenna. I pointed it out to my mother, who merely laughed and told me to get into the car.
Somehow I managed to end up a complete mental case anyway.
