Me: Two weeks after the last wedding, we finally
had a reception in the United States. We
rented out a greenhouse at the Gardens of River Oaks, which afforded us a
beautiful scenic view, lots of light, and the perfect space to end our crazy
month of wedding events. Since we had
kept the wedding itself to just close family, we opened up the reception to everyone
else. We had a pretty good turnout, not
too large and not too small. Just the
intimate kind of thing we were hoping for.
We
did all of the traditional things that people do at wedding receptions; toasts,
first dance, etc. But the thing that
really stuck out was the cake. My mother
had made the cake with several tiers separated by Greek columns. There were little stairways going off one of the
main tiers to smaller tiers on the side, and there was a groomsman and
bridesmaid on the stairways for each of our wedding party. Laying haphazardly all over the cake were beautiful
orange, red, and gold maple leaves made out of sugar. The cake encompassed all the parts of all of
our weddings perfectly.
Spousal Unit: I was really looking forward to the reception
in Houston. It was the first time I was
going to be able to share my happiness with my friends and colleagues, and it
meant that all of this was finally winding down. We could finally start to live a normal
life. My new hubby did a perfect job
picking out the location. The greenhouse
was beautiful. It was just a small
affair, but it felt cozy, like everyone there was family. We kept it laid back, which was perfect.
Me: We cut the cake, and I forked up a piece to
feed it to my wife. We had agreed that
we didn’t want to smash it into each other’s faces, so I teased her with the fork
moving it around so she couldn’t bite it.
Finally, she grabbed my wrist to stop my movement, and that was when
disaster struck. The piece of cake, which
was sitting lightly on the fork, flew up in the air. I watched in slow motion as it arced
perfectly and dropped right down the front of my new wife’s dress, sliding
cozily between her cleavage. Being the
gentleman that I am, I graciously and anxiously agreed to go in after it.
Spousal Unit: The myriad of weddings, stress, and running
around over the last month had caused me to lose quite a bit of weight. My wedding dress, which had been snug when
all of this had started, was now barely hanging on. My bridesmaids had had to use quite a few
pins to cinch it up and keep it from sliding right off me. I was doing okay, until I had grabbed my new
hubby’s wrist and watched in slow-motion horror as that piece of cake flew
right down the front of my dress. Had it
been a few weeks earlier, and it would have just harmlessly bounced off my
breasts. But with my dress being
baggier, it went right in and made a home in my cleavage.
I
instantly slapped my hands over my breasts and started laughing in
disbelief. When my new hubby offered to
go in after it, I started laughing so hard that tears were coming out of my
eyes. I eventually fished it out of
there and somehow managed to feed a piece to him. Truth be told, I was very tempted to smash it
in his face after that.
