After spending all Saturday morning packing decorations and printing off one last bridal shower game, we carted everyone to Carly’s destination music museum. The owners called me first thing in the morning to tell me their elevator was broken.
This would not have been a problem if we weren’t holding the party three floors up and all of our guests were under 30. That wasn’t the case. We went over to the museum anyway to see if we could move our guests somewhere else.
Carly’s future mother-in-law was making phone calls to change our venue and I didn’t want to decide on anything until Carly cleared it. We knew my grandma was not about to walk up three flights of stairs, and we certainly didn’t want to take all our food and decorations up manually either.
In a panic, I called the caterer and tried to explain we were deciding where to move the shower and I was going to call her back.
“Why don’t you just come here?” she demanded, cutting me off. I didn’t want to assume the catering place had room so I didn’t think to ask firsthand.
We decided to move everyone to our caterer, Amazing Foods, after she promised she’d still make our food and give us some places to sit.
The initial stress of the morning was relieved. We made a few phone calls to the family members who were coming and had them spread the word to other guests as we drove around the block to our new venue.
The next hour was spent putting giant snowball hydrangeas, chocolate and ice breaker games on the tables. At some point before the shower my parents decided my baby sister was going to stay the whole time.
Originally, mom’s orders were to keep Rachel away from the party. She recently discovered her ability to run away and go exploring – a talent she especially likes to show off during Mass.
I carried Rachel around while my parents filled two spouted glass pitchers with iced tea and lemonade “punch.”
My mother found a recipe online and insisted on making it for the shower, even though she previously argued at every will against punch because the serving method is too messy.
All sugary drinks aside, it was a fun little party. My mother’s long-term pharmacy techs and co-workers were two of the first ladies to arrive. A few of Carly’s classmates and mutual friends joined the bridal party table before we kicked off with a “What did the groom say?” quiz.
Carly asked me to think of questions a few days before and then got her fiancée’s answers over Facetime. Some of them surprised everyone right down to his mother.
After my cousin won her fair share of Bath and Body Works door prizes, we headed over to the food arrangement.
By this time, I was glad I hadn’t let the caterer talk me out of ordering quiche. She had called around 8:15 a.m. two weeks before and I answered although my voice was cracking like a seventh-grade boy.
She told me I should order frittata instead, which is apparently a quiche without the crust, but if you want egg pie you’re ordering it for the crust. I’m glad I told her no.
Everyone else enjoyed the food, even six hours later when we brought the leftovers to my grandmother’s house. My co-worker was still talking about Carly’s father-in-law’s cheesecake when I came in for my shift Monday.
Even with the last-minute change, I would say Carly’s shower went swimmingly. Although we could have had a better turnout, I’m sure my sister looks forward to using her kitchen appliances and Victoria’s Secret purchases with her husband in England.
KELSEY GHERING
