Holding in news of this caliber has been detrimental to my health. No one ever tells me secrets. I suppose I don't hang out with a shady crowd. I haven't had to withhold a secret since I watched a girl squeeze a packet of mayonnaise into her sock in the first grade.
Private retention of excitable details is a difficult task. Once I saw Ellen's ring-to-be I almost popped. So maybe I told a few select establishments on Folly beach. And maybe even the guy in the grocery store who caught me grinning foolishly at a display of avocados. "Big fan?" he asked. And maybe Ari and Jared. And Mattie's family. And a few of the trainers in the gym next to Chic Antique. But that's it!!
This wedding is all about me. I've been waiting for this day for ages. This is a celebration of a Union's union and a happy life full of adventure and most importantly, a celebration of Laura's exoneration of a position she has begrudgingly held since childhood. I am no longer Ellen's whipping boy. I will no longer be accountable for emotional support. We are celebrating my freedom. We are celebrating my new beginning.
I would also like a small army of nephews (only nephews Ellen!) so that I may spare myself the grotesque burden of childbirth and still reap the benefits of creating little dickens's that will push all of Ellen's buttons and show her what it really means to not rinse your bowl before you put it in the dishwasher. I'll teach them that she can't stand the sound of fingernails against that weird felt fabric on the roof of the car and that if you bite her hard enough, she can't even scream. Oh we're going to have a great time.
Ellen, Chris, I'm only joking (no I'm not!!). We're all very excited for you two and I promise that my wedding speech (which is against my will by the way) will be much more loving and syrupy and candy-coated and all those yucky love-time things.
Congrats you two!! Wachati!!
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