“He doesn’t speak any English.”
Those, my friends, were the first words Grunt Labor said to me on our wedding day.
There was no “You look beautiful.” “I love you.” or even “Its so hot out here my knees are sweating.” (Which they were.)
Those first treasured words that every bride remembers for the rest of her life, for me were, “He doesn’t speak any English.”
When Grunt Labor asked me to marry him (which by the way, I totally thought he was about to tell me he had cheated, had killed someone, or was gay, rather than proposing to me, but that’s another story) we had already talked about doing a destination wedding. I agreed to the destination wedding before I had seen his childhood church that we would have been married in if we had the wedding locally, but that’s another story as well.
Either way, we ended up in the Dominican Republic. Why the Dominican Republic? Because our favorite resort had a hotel there, a casino, and all booze was included.
The two things you should always base your wedding location on – casinos and booze.
Never once did we stop to think, “Oh, I bet June in the Dominican will be ridiculously hot.”
They at least had fun with their photos and took a quick break to put deodorant on each other’s back to combat the sweating.
You think I’m kidding.
I also didn’t realize that the “aisle” I would be walking down was actually just pebbles.
And I had on four inch sapphire blue Manolo Blahnik heels – the kind Carrie married Big in.
That was a fun walk.
By the time I reached the altar, the only thing on my mind was getting in an air-conditioned room and a cold drink in my hand.
When Grunt Labor said, “He doesn’t speak any English,” and nodded toward the priest, I laughed.
Seriously? What else is going to happen today?
Oh, there was that little fact that my hair looked like a blonde football helmet about an hour and a half prior to the wedding. Luckily, that crisis was averted.
The wedding coordinator, who moonlighted as a translator, relayed what the priest said.
Or at least we hope she got it right.
And when the translator asked if we took each other to be our significant other, we said, “Sí.”
What else were we going to say? “I do?” That was so 2009.
And hopefully this post will remind both of us that today is our anniversary.
The first year we totally forgot all about it. Whoops. In our defense, we had just moved into a foreclosure two days prior, and there was a mental breakdown because of a dryer that wouldn’t work.
Happy Anniversary, Grunt Labor!
Thank you for doing all the heavy lifting for the past four years.
And for the cheap beer.
There are more ridiculous stories here.
You know you don’t wanna miss any of this crazy.
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