I said I’d tell you happy news that wasn’t MY happy news.

And I like to do what I say I’ll do.

So.

LaLa…

my sister…

is engaged!

We all knew it was coming. She and the now-fiancee have been VERY serious about their relationship and future and decision making and it’s been pretty fun to watch from way far away. He’s very nice and will be wonderful for her and she’s just as wonderful for him – and he has two kids and she’s really good with them and I know it’s kinda predictable… but they’re just one big sweet happy family.

I’m happy.

More importantly, so are they.

So LaLa called to tell me the news last weekend and we squealed and talked and after awhile I said, “So. You’re not really the traditional type, but really, now, is your wedding dress going to be orange?”

LaLa likes orange. But don’t worry, y’all, she has the personality and the skin tone to pull it off.

There was a LONG silence after I asked this question.

“Oh, geez. You already found a dress, and it’s orange, huh?”

And she did. Kinda.

I may be in orange too, because she asked me to be her maid of honor. (We agreed not to use the word ‘matron.’ If the bride can wear orange, all rules are out the window and the married sister can be called a maid.)

The last time I was in a wedding, I was 5 months along with Seth-5yr. But no one knew. We hadn’t told anyone, and for some reason I didn’t show until 7 months with him. Very weird, but ideal for wedding wear purposes.  (Sage green satin that time. A bit uh, bare, on top.)

The FIRST time I was in a wedding, I was maybe 6 years old and I was the ring bearer. I was horrified. Not only did I have a boyish haircut, but I had the BOY job of being what i thought was called the Ring Bear and my older pretty sister had long curled girly hair and got to be the flower GIRL. Ugh.

But it was a night wedding and I ran through the church yard in the dark and sunk up to my knees in deep thick mud that I hadn’t seen and i had to pretend to be upset that I had done this to my white tights and lavender dress when really I was all, “OH MY GOSH, MUD, THAT WAS SOOOOO FUN, SQUISH SQUISH, SORRY MOM.”

In hindsight, I was clearly not the right choice for Flower Girl.

So last night I was talking to the Bride. That would be LaLa. And I said, “You know I’m really awful about social stuff. But I’m so touched that you asked me to be the maid of honor and I will do WHATEVER that entails. Bridal showers, bachelorette parties, whatever that means.” And in a really serious, quiet voice, “If you want me to hire a stripper… I–”

And that’s when she interrupted by screaming something loud and unintelligible and outraged.

Like I knew she would.

Like, that’s the only reason I even said that.

LaLa can really scream.

Then we exchanged stripper stories – surprised that we both even HAD stripper stories.  They were equally wildly inappropriate, but maybe all stripper stories are. I don’t know.

I really wish I had thought through the organization of this post a bit more, (Like I do that. No. I don’t. For you new people? I don’t do that) because I started off with a ‘here comes the bride’ vibe and am ending on a stripper note. and that’s not good. that was not the goal.

But I’m leaving in the morning and I really need to go finish packing and do other stuff besides figure out how to fix this.

So!

Congratulations to LaLa and the Fiancee!

(I don’t know if I can use his real name here! Because my sister’s real name is not LaLa, either! So we’ll just go with that!)

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