I owe my niece a blog post. She had a massive wedding months ago, and it was beautiful and perfect and came with a 10-page instruction manual for the groomsmen and 2-page timelines spanning 15 hours for all involved in the proceedings and crazy relatives and fireworks and ice cream, and I promised her I’d write about it because it really was wonderful. I’ve written about her brother here, apparently, but not her and she keeps texting me at weird hours and reminding me and I will get around to it, Lulu, I SWEAR TO YOU. Just not today.
I could tell a lifetime’s worth of stories about living with my mother across two counties while building a house that was supposed to be done in August, but when I told the builder I didn’t want to hear the “N-word” (meaning November), he came right back with “It’s better than the D-word” and I nearly punched him in the throat right there. Needless to say, we’re living with my mother and building a house and it’s tremendous fun and more than a little stress and it is never going to be done.
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