I’ve been on Malarone for a while now–it’s an anti-malarial drug. Even though I’m home now, I have to continue it for a full two weeks, just to be safe.
One of its side effects is personality disorder, which I seem to have escaped (unless you ask my husband. Please don’t.)
But one of the side effects I have experienced has been really vivid, strange dreams. If you are the sort who feels the need to analyze every element of your dreams, Malarone would rock your world.
Last night, snug in my bed, I dreamed that I learned that Hubs and I had been married by a preacher who wasn’t licensed, so we weren’t actually married. We set out to right this wrong by planning another wedding. But we felt like we needed to do it in 48 hours, so we were really busy. We called and informed (not asked) our dear friends who have a beautiful backyard with a pool that we would be using their yard for the ceremony, and could they please hire a lifeguard because we wanted our children to be able to swim while we said our vows.
Evidently if your nine-year-old son does a canonball during the "to love and cherish" part, it really seals the deal.
Anyway, I called Shaun Groves and asked him to do the music, which he said he would do, but only if he could play old early ’80’s church camp music.
Evidently if the crowd sings "I Have Decided To Follow Jesus" during the "kiss the bride" part, you’re hitched for good.
Then (and, by the way, kudos to those of you who have managed to stick with this post), I decided to do all the catering myself, so I prepared a bathtub-sized vat of chicken salad. And then, taking a break from our preparations, we decided to go have lunch with our old friend Jimmy Buffett (yes, JIMMY BUFFETT). As we ate lunch (chicken salad, of course), Jimmy showed us the pirate costume he brought for Hubs to wear in our wedding. And Hubs was just thrilled about this and put it on right away.
Because evidently if your prospective groom shows up wearing large hoop earrings and a skull-and-crossbones cap on your wedding day, then your wedded bliss is assured.
And that’s it. Chicken salad, pirate grooms, and my illegitimate children doing the dog paddle, all in one night. Personality disorder? Not me.