Wednesday, September 22, 2010

What's that you said?

I've neglected my bitterness. Time to correct that error:

I have a friend who is getting married. Yep, the same one who earlier this year was up in her boyfriend's shizz at the ripe old age of 51 years. You may remember this irritation from this post. This is the same friend who stressed to me, time and time again, that weddings these days are too over the top--there's no need for a full dinner at the reception, no need for numerous wedding showers, no need for an elaborate honeymoon, blah. blah. blah. Well, I hope she likes the taste of irony. From the moment that the down-on-one-knee picture showed up on Facebook, life is all about the perfect engagement party, the perfect ring, the perfect outfit, the perfect cake, the perfect wedding date. Le sigh.

In the more compassionate compartments of my heart, I am thankful that she is excited, thankful she is marrying someone she loves, and thankful she has involved in planning an exciting series of events. As a matter of fact, this thoughtful, giddy friend has invited me to a wedding cake tasting at our favorite local bakery this Sunday afternoon. So thoughtful. Have a moment to think, "Awwwww."

Now move on to the wording of the actual invitation email:
Okay, this Sunday is cake tasting at Ye Local Bakery from 1 – 3 p.m. Either or both of you want to go? Monkey's Mom– the website says no children – sorry. Don’t know if Monkey's Dad will be home or not.

Anyway, thought it would be fun. Just let me know if you can go.


Are you fucking kidding me? I have told Aging Bride no less than 10 times that Monkey's Dad works every freaking Saturday and Sunday. Every.One. In addition, he works everyday until 3pm, not home until 4pm. I would like to think that she has paid one iota of attention to my day-to-day life. This truly makes me insane, and I couldn't figure out how the hell to respond without being a bitch, so I've yet to respond. If I did remove my filter, this is what I would say:
I'm sure you just forgot that Monkey's Dad works every weekend. Every one. Without fail. Remember when I told you that he would have to request time off for your perfect, every-detail-planned-out Engagement Party? Yep. Well, turns out that he is working this Sunday, too. Surprising, isn't it? While I appreciate you wanting me to be involved in planning your big day, a little bit of attention to my effing life would go a long way toward me thinking that I'm not just an adoring placeholder in your sea of friends.

Try paying attention to someone else's life and maybe it'd be worth getting a babysitter for the Monkey for cake tasting, because, you know, Monkey's dad works on Sundays. I mention this again due tot the high probability that you have already forgotten this teensy detail of my life.
Thanks for the invite,
Monkey's Mom


Too harsh?