I confess. Tonight as I was blowing up plastic microphones and guitars for Pie’s Rock Star birthday party, I had on Bridezillas. All of a sudden, a cold chill went up my spine. I had a flash forward to Pie, twenty-eight years from now at her own wedding (we get married late, us party girls) . That girl is going to be a bridezilla. You can tell by the way she micromanages what I will be wearing to her party. The way she critiques birthday cake decorations. The way she demands that we play Pin the Sunglasses on the Rock Star without closing eyes, because she doesn’t like her eyes to be closed, tradition be damned. The way she melted down over who got what silly bands in his or her goody band. The way she insisted I sew matching rock star skirts for her and Jasmine to wear. They way… well, I just get dizzy thinking about all the ways. She’s been planning this party for six months now.
When she’s ready for the big leagues… I think I’ll be joining the Peace Corps. Although the other side of the world may not be quite far enough away.
