Two weeks ago, Andrew’s friend Kyleigh got married to the man of her dreams. It’s such an honour and a beautiful thing to watch two people who love each other pledge to spend the rest of their lives together. It was a fairly small wedding, definitely under 150 people. The ceremony was full of laughter and tears [the happy kind], and the love was palpable in the room. Ceremonies always make me feel particularly sappy towards Andrew, and I always have to hold his hand.
We went immediately into the reception/cocktail hour, and I managed to grab some yummy hor d’ouerves even though I did make the comment that they didn’t seem like Kyleigh would eat anything like them. Sure enough, when she finally arrived to make the rounds, she wrinkled her nose and passed on everything that was being handed out. I, of course, was starving at this point, and couldn’t wait until dinner.
We find our table, and slowly all file in to find our seats. We were close to the head table and the microphone because Andrew was the Master of Ceremonies for them. He was really quite nervous, and he had no reason to be. He did an excellent job at keeping everything somewhat running smoothly. Weddings never run completely smooth. Dinner was served and was delicious, broken only by funny and tearful speeches.
Dinner led into dancing, and that led to the late night candy bar and poutine bar. I wasn’t hungry enough to partake, but of course Andrew did. It looked delicious though! I spent the night hitting up the dance floor, as per my usual, and dragging Andrew’s sorry bum out there too. It was over far to quick, and then they were jet-setting off on their honeymoon to Belize.
