Rainy Days and Sundays Always Get Me Down

Adam and I attended a wedding last Sunday in Springfield, which is just over an hour and a half away. A friend of mine from the kibbutz got married. It was such a surprising coincidence that my Israeli friend got married so close to me that I wanted to make every effort to go the wedding. On the kibbutz, he was a good friend, teaching me how to drive a tractor, taking me to festivals in Akko, and lending me his apartment when I needed a quiet place to call my boyfriend back home to break up with him (okay, not very nice, but there's a whole story there that I'm not going to get into). Besides, I couldn't imagine this sandal-wearing kibbutznik having a formal American wedding. I felt badly for his parents, who don't really speak English--they're survivors and kibbutz founders--in the middle of all the pomp. Kibbutz weddings (one of which I attended) are decidedly more low-key and casual. Anyway, the wedding necessitated leaving the Doodlebug for about eight hours. The Tweedle Twirp came to the rescue and came back to Boston to spend the day with him. Now, I had every faith in TT and I knew she'd do a terrific job taking care of DB. And she did. He was fussy, she calmed him. He was hungry, she fed him. He spit up on two outfits, she changed him and did his laundry. I couldn't ask for a better babysitter. That said, I am never, ever, ever again leaving the DB again. I missed him like I've never missed anyone before. All night I kept thinking about him, wishing I were with him. I'm going to stick by him the rest of my life. He'll go to college in Boston (plenty of good schools to choose from). If he pledges a fraternity in college, I'll become the house mother. When he gets his own place, it'll have to have an in-law apartment for me.


I will say, though, that the wedding was lovely. The reception was at this place in Holyoke that was a regular revolving wedding reception hall with at least three wedding parties going on (note to the gorgeous bride in the beautiful strapless dress taking videos outside: there's nothing trashier looking than a bride who smokes). I promised TT that we'd leave the reception early, right at nine, figuring that would give us a good amount of time there (it started at 6) and we wouldn't be home too late. Of course, this was a largish wedding in a packed room, and by 8:55, the main course had yet to be served. I had only had a bowl of cereal in the morning and was famished, so we got a fifteen-minute extension from the TT so we could eat. We missed out, though, on the Oreo-cookie-ice-cream balls, which sounded delightfully intriguing to me, and the cake, which I didn't mind missing out on. I have yet to eat a really good wedding cake. The worst part of the evening was having to awkwardly ask a sixteen-year-old employee if there was a private place I could go to, uh, you know, pump. Happily they were quite accommodating and opened an office for me to use.