So during the Redtop Celebration we hold a mass. This year was particularly special as the archbishop of Atlanta was coming up to say the mass for us. Not only was he going to say mass but he would be helping us renew our wedding vows. Except the wedding vow thing was a bit of a surprise to those of us who either were chasing screaming kids or did not read the program, which should not be taken to imply, even if it conceivably is 100% true, that one of us doesn't ever, for any reason, read the program or instructions provided to him for any reason. When the shelves fall off the wall or the grill blows up, it is one thing but when it is the marriage vow gig, quite another. Now, that is not to say the grill has blown up. Well, at least not this one. Yet.
So we wore our very best mud covered jeans for the big event. When we realized what was about to happen, we got so excited we could hardly contain ourselves as our efforts were going into containing Mia. After all, the archbishop has only two ranks between him and the ultimate CEO and our original priest had five so these vows had to have some real superpower and, in my estimate, were probably 50% better than the original so we were good to go.
Meanwhile, the very dignified archbishop had come in and began the mass. Against all Catholic tradition, we came to a part where there were actually some people singing along with the incredible music that was presented. Would have thought the place was full of Lutherans, Baptists and Methodists it sounded so good. Which, of course, gave me the perfect cover to tell the son that we had just noticed that very soon we were getting married again and wasn't that exciting? He, of course, wanted to know why. I let him know that since he hadn't been able to attend the first ceremony, we were going to do it again so he and Mia could be there and share in the momentous event. Which led the husband-to-be-again to state, "Uh, actually you were there in Mommy's tummy."
Of course, my not so darling husband-who-needed-to-sleep-with-one-eye-open-to-be was using his "talking over the music voice" for his statement when the music had stopped abruptly. I immediately knew that quiet but effective communication of my thoughts was most appropriate for the setting. Again, being very conscious of not wanting to cause any disruption of the services or causing any undue distraction to others, I used the well-known quiet communication method of gaining the husband-now-maybe-to-be's attention by wacking his upper arm with my fist thrown at a 90 degree angle while muttering "shut up" in my best whispering-pretty-loud-in church voice. Which, of course, caused the ever vigilent son to exclaim, "Mommy, you said a bad word!" in his best in-case-you-haven't noticed, heck-yeah-we-are-actually-in-a-barn voice. So, I'm praying for singing but nope, the only voices that are lifting are the archbishop's and, unfortunately, our little clan's.
We notice the couples-to-be rustling around while I am, ever the diligent positive role-modeling parent, stating, "Robert, I am sorry I said a bad word to you. I was wrong. I will give Aidan the quarter I owe him for using a bad word on our return home. Could you find it in your heart to forgive me?" And, as the folks began turning to one another, the son again asks, apparently for addiitional clarification purposes what we are doing and I tell him we are getting married again, isn't it exciting, and couldn't he just turn around, be quiet and go along with the glorious program for Pete's sake?"
We notice folks picking up programs and would have done so if the son hadn't continued with his line of inquiry about the situation. He first needed to make sure I, and anyone within a 20 foot range understood that "there is a problem. First, who and where is Pete? Second, where was my dress? How could I get married without a dress?" And, as the folks opened their programs and we grabbed ours to begin, I told him in my best-imitation-of-a-viper's-hiss voice, don't need it, just getting married again, apparently now, how about just being quiet, and Robert begins to solemly repeat after the archbishop, I ....take....as my wife, apparently having missed the instructions that were cleverly hidden in plain sight and bold type in the the program that stated he was to fill in our names so that that he, Robert, would take Joan as his wife and so on.
Meanwhile, the son had one more, very important question that needed answering before he would participate. He just needed to know just who we were marrying? I noticed him eyeing one of the very pretty and nice gals there who he is a bit sweet on. I could see the glint in his eye as he considered the fact that I was apparently being pawned off on Pete and he might get to spend some quality time with the other gal. Didn't have time to answer him before the archbishop asked the kids to get up and give their parents some applause. The son stood up and looked at us like we had grown alien heads while Mia just clapped along.
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