Wedding Meat

Many brides vent about their RSVP situation. They have to chase down half or more of the guests by phone, email, or Facebook. In contrast, ours was really pretty tame. Sure, we had a few late responders, but almost everyone was good about getting us an answer once they realized they had blown the RSVP deadline. I did, however, have the funniest conversation with my 91-year-old grandfather about a relative of mine. This relative was a little late in responding, and my grandpa offered to check in with him, which was much appreciated. I received the following call from my grandfather as I am sitting in the pedicure chair, I'm sure sounding like the requisite bridezilla to the rest of the nail salon.

Grandpa: Uncle So-and-so is coming
Me: Great! Is he bringing a date?
Grandpa: Huh?
Me: A date? Is he bringing a date?
Grandpa: A what?
Me: A date.
Grandpa: A what??
Me: A date. A girlfriend. A female. A lady friend. A fiance. An escort…
Grandpa: Why do you need to know? Do you need to have a meal or something for her?

At this point, I am half laughing, half incredulous, and another half frustrated.

Me: Yes, I need to have a meal for her, a place for her at the table, and a placecard. This is a formal sit-down dinner, not a BBQ.
Grandpa: Well, I'll eat a hot dog.

/dead. I nearly fell out of my pampered princess pedicure chair laughing. I mean, what do you say to that? And what a cute reminder that the minutia, while it does matter in a practical sense, is just fluff to those who will be at this shindig to support you, and for no other reason. They will, indeed, eat a hot dog, if that's what you're serving!

To borrow another blogger's timeline-oriented signoff: I'm 12 days away from the wedding and remembering how lucky I am to have people who make my life so rich.