I'm not sure if I've shared this story or not yet, so here it goes:
Upon marrying the man of my dreams, the love of my life, my knight in shining armor, our limo wisked us away and back to our house where we changed. I quickly shimmied out of my wedding dress and "suckyinny" garments and then spent a good twenty minutes plucking confetti out of places where no confetti should ever be. He leaft me to go out and speak to his grandmother, who had followed us home.
Yup - we have twenty minutes to change, get our "frisky" on and leave and he's out in the hallway discussing lord knows what with a diminuitive old lady.
"No problem. There's always the limo ride to Columbus!" I think to myself. I get dressed and start removing the 157 bobby pins that were holding my hair in an intricate up do.
We settle in to the back of the limo and nibble on the "to go" snack that the caterers so graciously packed for us. We kiss and snuggle and then Harry looks at me tenderly and says "Wow - we've got a long way to go before we get to Hawaii - better get some sleep!" and just like that, just as instantaneous as a lightswitch being turned off - he's out.
I sit, freezing in the backseat of the Lincoln and wonder how to turn work the a/c.
Eight hours later we board a large cruise boat. I was sleep-deprived, exhausted and still had not been given a chance to consummate my marriage. Although the thought of joining the mile high club was tempting - until I realized that the odds of two chubby people getting wedged in the toilet compartment of a 747 was highly likely and entirely probable. So I opted to wait for the ship.
Upon entering our room I noticed a disturbing thing: There were two twin beds, made up separately and then pushed together. I opened my mouth to complain, but instead - fell fast asleep. Four hours later I awoke to the gentle rocking of the boat and an immediate desire for a toilet. I got up, walked into the bed, the dresser, the entry table and then tripped over the bathroom step before making it safely to the commode.
I returned to the bedroom (using the same drunk-monkey walk) and - didn't see Harry. I'm about to turn on the lights when something poked out from between the beds.
It was a leg!
Harry had fallen down in the crack, with one leg sticking straight up and was - completely asleep!
I could have been a nice new wife. I could've pulled him from the crack that ate him, but I didn't. I crawled into my bed and went to sleep.
My first night of wedded bliss wasn't all that blissful - but it sure as hell gave me a funny story to share! And that, my friends, I wouldn't trade for the world.