After cocktail hour, we finally got to hug Chris and Monica during the receiving line thing and you know that I:
- really like them
- was properly liquored
because I was really excited about this part! I don’t know if Henry hugged them too. He was behind me and I wasn’t paying attention. I’m going to call him at work right now and find out.
Me: When we were at Chris and Monica’s wedding, did you hug them in the receiving line?
Henry: Did I hug who?
Me: Chris and Monica! [No, Jason Voorhees and Michael Myers, you idiot.]
Henry: Um….[really long pause] I don’t remember.
Let’s just say that he gave them the good ol’ Service Salute. Whatever that is. Hopefully not an euphemism for something disgusting.
Luckily, Table 15 was super easy to find because it was the first table we had to walk past. (If that was intentional, thank you!) We got to sit with Nate, April, Lauren, and Tony and it was basically the best table ever. (In my opinion, anyway. There could have been some intense debates about Victorian funerary customs and vintage wheelchair exchanges at another table that I was unaware of, and then that would the best table ever.)
Chooch sat down and was like “Fuck yeah, bread!” and immediately cleaved it with all the grace of a basic Jack the Ripper.
Before dinner was served, a few people went up to give speeches, at which point I had some bizarre allergic reaction to something in the air and while it probably looked like I was crying, it was actually my eyes trying to wash away whatever was poisoning them, like I had just looked at a picture of a nude Donald Trump. So if you saw me sniffling and dabbing my eyes with the tissues that were handed out before the wedding ceremony, that’s what was going on. I wasn’t like, touched by all of the loving words or anything sentimental like that. Please.
We had the perfect view of the first dance! I wonder why that guy was taking a picture of me.
The first dance is the part that makes me nervous when I think about my future wedding, and by future I mean future LIFE because I highly doubt I will ever experience the emotional stress and financial burden of planning a wedding in this current lifetime. No I know, you’re right. I shouldn’t think that way….
Chooch’s infamous cup of urine.
As a starter, we all enjoyed a cup of delicious pumpkin soup. Chooch rejected it immediately because he won’t eat anything that’s not a chicken nugget or full of Red 40. I had some plans to chug his cup after I finished my own soup, but then I was distracted with ridiculing Henry for not using the right spoon. You can put a different shirt on him, but the blue collar is in his blood, you guys.
Next, we had a salad, which Chooch also refused. I think Henry probably ate his, though. Henry can’t stand seeing salads go to waste. I always leave onions and tomatoes behind, which Henry predictably vacuums up with his mustachioed Hoover-hole.
“Why are people doing that?” Chooch asked when various people started tapping their glasses with silverware.
“To get Chris and Monica to kiss,” I explained, at which point Chooch nodded that he understood and reached for a knife, which Henry snatched from his fingers with a quickness. Have you met my kid? He does nothing gently and we really didn’t feel like picking shards of glass out of our hair, clothes, and eyes that evening.
For my main course, I got a giant pile of sauteed vegetables. It was a beautiful sight! I’m used to getting skimped when I select the vegetarian option, but I was presented with so much food that I actually couldn’t finish. Thumbs up, G.Wash Hotel! Those mashed potatoes, tho.
Sometime during all of this, the Puddles Pity Party cover of “Royals” started to play and I got so happy. I turned toward the brides’ table to illustrate my approval with a thumbs up and Chris and Monica smiled back, flashed a peace sign, flapped their arms, I can’t remember. But the point is I SHARED AN INSIDE MOMENT THING WITH THE BRIDES AND YOU DIDN’T.
Because you weren’t at the Puddles Pity Party show with us. And that is when Chris said to Monica, “I want to have this song played at our wedding.” I WAS THERE WHEN THAT IDEA WAS BUT A SEEDLING.
Chooch’s view of Table 15.
I think this was right after Nate said, “OK kid, let’s put a moratorium on the Minecraft talk now.”
If it were up to Chooch, he’d have pulled a chair up to the brides’ table. Henry had to keep stopping him from going over there and bugging them and it was kind of hilarious. I mean, I told him leaving the leash at home was a bad idea.
In lieu of a wedding cake, Chronica opted for donuts and it was perfect. Henry actually made the display for them and here’s how that happened:
One night, Henry and I were sitting on the couch when Chris messaged me with pictures of donut displays and asked, “Do you think Henry could make us something like this?” and I said out loud, “Pfft, yeah, this is definitely something that you could make” and Henry was like, “Wait, what am I doing? Can I at least see it before you tell them yes?”
“I already told them yes, but here, you can look if you want.”
And luckily it was something that he was able to do. Then he thought he was King Shit because he got to have Facebook messaging parties with them and I wasn’t included. Whatever, Henry. I got to help Chris paint pumpkins so I contributed just as much wedding labor as him.
(Yes, it’s a competition.)
I mean, the donuts were fabulous, but can we talk about that cookie table though? I can’t believe I didn’t get any photos of the actual table once it was unveiled, but I can confirm that it was quite the spread. The cookie table is one of the only traditional Pittsburgh things that I really do enjoy. Because who doesn’t love a veritable cookie buffet? And then you get to fill a carry-out container before you leave! Pittsburgh weddings rule.
And lemon squares rule. And snickerdoodles. And those chocolate cookies with powdered sugar that get me so stoked on life whenever I see they’re an option. And they even had Star Wars chocolates! Also, the coffee was spectacular. Like, drink-it-black because it’s so spectacular. The next morning, when I was nursing a slight hangover, I murmured to no one in particular, “I miss that coffee from last night.”
This photo brings me so much joy because it’s the perfect representation of Chooch and Monica’s frenemyship.
Let’s be serious for a second though: I’m really happy that Chooch was included in the festivities because he loves those girls. And also, while Henry spent most of the evening half-asleep and alone at the table, Chooch and I had ridiculous amounts of fun running around, exploring the bowels of the hotel (next post!), and BEST OF ALL: dancing to our jam, “Call Me Maybe”!!!!
In case you were unfamiliar, Chooch and I are huge Carly Rae Jepsen fans. “Call Me Maybe” was our anthem during the summer of 2012 (I mean, duh) and we had some real interesting, impromptu dance parties in honor of it. So when I had to fill something in for the “What song will get you on the dance floor?” question on Chronica’s RSVP card, it was a no-brainer. Literally zero thought was required. However, I had forgotten about that, so Chooch and I kept stalking the DJ until finally Chris intercepted us on one of our clandestine missions and said, “You don’t have to request it! It’s going to get played, you wrote it on the card, remember?”
We were out in the hall when it came on and made a beeline for the dance floor, where all self-awareness and ability to move our limbs in a reasonable manner evaporated.
Again, that phone is super heavy for Henry to hold up. We’re lucky he had the strength to capture this 5 second video for us looking like derelicts on the dance floor.
And then this beautiful mother-son moment was ruined when Chooch scoffed, “No wonder no one asked you to prom! You suck at dancing!”
“I had a boyfriend so I didn’t need someone to ask me! I didn’t go to prom because I didn’t WANT TO GO TO PROM!”
God, what a jerk. And in the middle of our song, no less!
I do suck at dancing, though.
This is the dance that Chooch said he “nailed.” Sorry to say it, son, but you got your mommy’s dance moves.