“A vacation is what you take when you can no longer take what you’ve been taking.”

– Earl Wilson ‘

This will be my last blog about my daughter’s wedding that you’ve read so much about the past month.

If you read last ...

I may have mentioned in the past that the Bobby and I are planning a big shindig.

Yes, in just over three weeks my daughter, Karilea, will embark upon the world's third oldest profession.

According to Erma Bombeck, motherhood is the world's second oldest profession, and most all of us know what the oldest profession is. So I have to say that I'm thrilled my precious baby is starting on the third, eventually moving into the second. (Cough *hint* cough)

We are down to what the Bobby calls the 'gnats and flies' stage of wedding planning, otherwise known as 'shit that would make a lesser woman cry.'

The next three weeks promise to be a blur of final tux fittings, head countings, and enough minute details to make me want a cocktail when it’s over – a big one.

And if the past week is any indication, I might make that several.

A big, old-fashioned southern wedding in a chapel, followed by a dance and some barbecue is in the works. It sounds easy, but it lies like a rug.

There are a million different things you forget to think about. At least, I do. And that means a million different things can go wrong.

Sparklers to set the happy couple's wedding clothes on fire as they depart? We don't need no stinking sparklers, and here's why:

We found out last week that the sparklers we were going to use for the grand exit are considered bad, bad, bad and more importantly, illegal, in the city limits of Wichita Falls. 

And, with my brother-in-law being the Fire Marshall in the very same city, the odds are way against me breaking this particular law. On the bright side (see what I did there?) we get to keep the 500 personalized matchboxes as a parting gift.

Since it’s probably considered rude to throw matches at departing newlyweds, we will be using biodegradable confetti.

Biodegradable confetti melts when water hits it – much like the witch in the Wizard of Oz, and in my mind is suspect –  but we’re going with it because time is short and rice kills birds.

Then we found out the limo service Karilea and Branden booked and paid a deposit for jilted those two before they ever got to the altar and went out of business.

Since the wedding is right in the middle of local prom season,  this is what we call a problem.  

However, the very same entity that made us the proud individual owners of 500 boxes of matches also has a trolley service which is now doubling as a limo service.

Finally, an abscessed tooth and accompanying pain became my constant companion; and my dentist and his prescription writing skills became my best friend, all in the same week.

The root canal and last rites for the nerves that live up in  there will be held a week before the wedding.

What could possibly go wrong?

Last Saturday, I got the ride of a lifetime and I never even moved.

Which is good.

Note: This column ran in our hometown ...