Ponchos, Small Talk and a Chocolate Fountain

We went to a wedding tonight. I sat in almost the back row, while my husband stood on the platform and conducted the ceremony. I am happy to report that everyone wore shoes.

My mother babysat and although my daughter was thrilled at the idea of Grandma coming to our house, she cried four times in the first hour we were gone. She didn't nap well earlier today (if at all) and she has a little cold--my daughter, not my mother. I'm not sure who was happier to see me at 8:30 p.m. . . my mom or my little girl.

I saw a woman at the wedding wearing a poncho, much like that one Martha Stewart famously wore when she was released from prison. As far as I can tell, this is an ugly yarn blanket with a hole in it for the head. I can't believe people are wearing these atrocities. When I was in third or fourth grade, my grandma crocheted me more than one shawl, which I wore to church with my cotton-polyester blend dresses and my white knit kneesocks. If you wore a blanket-like creation in your childhood, you should not wear it again. That's why you will not find me wrapped up in a poncho or a shawl. Well, that and the ugly factor.

Also, what is the deal with wedding clothes? Not just the clothes the wedding party wears (halter necked gowns which bare shoulders should not be worn by just anyone, you know, especially, say, seven of your closest friends of all body types and sizes), but the clothes which are acceptable to wear to a wedding. I feel like I'm about eight hundred years old, but when did it become okay for women to wear pants to weddings? I wore a dress and pantyhose to the last wedding I attended, and as you may recall (if you have been lucky enough to follow all my utterly boring fascinating adventures, I stripped those pantyhose off in the bathroom at the reception. (Which sounds very exciting, except, I was alone and it was a matter of comfort versus agony.) I noticed then that many of the other women wore pants. Who is responsible for this fashion trend?

I don't know, but I'd like to thank the woman responsible for my complete and utter comfort tonight. My black pants were quite comfortable and as it turns out, completely commonplace despite the fancy, hoity-toitiness of the wedding. I sipped champagne during the toast, I held a skewered strawberry, banana chunk and marshmallow under a fountain of chocolate and I asked the (retired) military wife next to me if they had children when they were stationed in St. Louis and she replied--to my utter shock--"We don't have children." (I've known this lovely couple for about five years.)

Someone, please, anyone, stop me from making small talk.