DailySusan Humor Blog

MOTHER OF BRIDEZILLA

The aged women likewise . . . that they may teach the young women to be sober, to love their husbands, to love their children, to be discreet, chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God be not blasphemed.
-- Titus 2:3-5

A friend’s daughter is getting married. She wants to have the reception at a posh country club. The mother checked costs for a sit-down bridal dinner with all the trimmings.

Weeks later, her face still had shock-and awe burns.

“Too expensive?” I sympathized. “What are you going to do?”

She brightened. “We’re going to have stations.”

Ooh! Elegant! Chefs carving a big roast beef over here, and rack of lamb over there?

Well . . . not exactly.

She said, “At one station, we’ll have a lineup of toasters, with breads, and some Pop-Tarts and English muffins.

“At the next station, we’ll have waffle irons, with batters and syrups, and spray cans of whipped cream. . . .”

Here’s a mother of the bride who has it TOGETHER. How I hope and pray for that resolve, that strength, when it’s my turn on the chopping blo . . . I mean, when our four daughters plan weddings.

Ominously, it’s happening now to more and more of my friends. We have to face facts: it’s up to us older women (and our respective medications) to rein ourselves in, so we can rein our daughters in, from these ridiculously perfectionistic, fairy-tale weddings.

You know: the Mormon Tabernacle Choir . . . the ice sculptures . . . the beautifully-dressed Chihuahua as the flower girl . . . the hot-air balloon liftoff . . . the oysters on the half-shell . . . the release of butterflies as the happy couple comes triumphantly down the aisle, only you hope they haven’t died in mail-order transit, as you can’t quite get the desired triumphant effect from throwing DEAD BUGS on your guests. . . .

The more elaborate and expensive weddings become, the more “Bridezillas” go on the rampage with a maniacal need to overachieve and outdo. No wonder men have commitment phobia: weddings are getting to be scarier than marriage.

I’m afraid I went over the edge, too. My parents tried to keep me rational. But I had to have fancy-poo: calligraphy, caterer, champagne, Chapter 11. . . .

As Wedding War Room bills mounted, Dad dangled an alternative before my beloved and me, with increasing fervor and eyebrow action as the big day approached:

Two one-way bus tickets to Las Vegas and $250 cash if we’d elope, instead.

Now I realize (1) what a good deal that was, and (2) we NEVER should’ve had FOUR daughters. It’s in their DNA! We’re doomed!

You just can’t reason with a determined Bridezilla. Things must go her way, or . . . duck!

One dear, sweet girl I know wanted an outdoor wedding at sunset, with the gentle breeze of eventide wafting the scent of rose petals over the assembled guests, whilst tweety-birds chirped joyously.

Alas! It poured rain all week. That morning, they were turning back the truck delivering the folding chairs; no way could a wedding be held outside that day.

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!” screamed the bride, rising in height and menace to the size of a deranged Macy’s Parade balloon.

The father of the groom set a chair on the grass, and sat. Bloop! Bloop! Blooooop! All four legs sank into the saturated soil, his tush mere inches off the ground.

Got to move it inside, Sweetheart. It’ll be fine.

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!” screamed Bridezilla, mushrooming to Stephen Spielberg alien monster proportions.

They meekly set up the chairs. And what do you know? The wind came up, the sun came out, the ground hardened up . . . and on with the show.

Now, that’s power: intimidating the WEATHER. Move over, King Kong.

Bridezilla came radiantly down the aisle, the moths flew out of her father’s wallet and frolicked with the tweety-birds over the designer bridal canopy . . . and I resolved to up the ante for our girls and their someday-fiances:

Two one-way bus tickets to ANYWHERE and $500 cash . . . APIECE!!!

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Praise report: Colon cancer was caught in the early stages for my friend Lynne’s mom. The surgery went well. Thank You, Jesus, for this wonderful news. (1 Peter 5:7)

Prayer request: A different kind of colon problem and a different surgery have posed a huge challenge this past week for Connie and Randy. Father, it has been so hard on them both to go through this trial, but their faith, hope and love continue to shine. Cover them with Your strong Hand! Bless them with improved health this week, Lord, just as their solid representation as Christians has blessed Your name to others. (Isaiah 66:14)