Working Title: How to Break Kat’s Spirit in an Afternoon
While I can’t say that I’ve had my dream wedding planned since I was just a girl, I can definitely say that for the last few years, I’ve had a dream registry.
So I’ll be the first to admit that after Marcus popped the question, I had visions of Le Creuset Dutch Ovens dancing in my head.
Totally normal stuff. You know.
To phrase it gently, today, my dreams did not Manifest themselves a la The Secret.
You can imagine my surprise when I was forced to recite the use/purpose of every item I wanted to register for in the style of a European Classroom before Marcus would point the registry gun at it.
The food processor? Is to make really expensive bread crumbs. Okay?
For clarity’s sake, this happened 87 times at Crate & Barrel alone.
Erica, bless her heart, texted me to see how the process was going. My response? This is hell on earth.
But, not to be deterred from a somewhat less-than-successful first experience, we went over to Macy’s to address the issues of bedding, towels, silver and crystal.
And I pasted on my biggest pageant-girl smile when the woman from the registry department beamed at us and said, “You are registering for your dreams.”
I would like the record to show that Marcus and I, we really gave it our all out there on the sales floor.
But I lost it.
So there I was, standing in the middle of the cake cutters and commemorative champagne flutes, sobbing black, lash-stiletto-laden tears.
And when I mean sobbing, I don’t mean pretty-crying. I mean ugly, blotchy, break-down crying.
I was a hot mess.
At which point I told Marcus that I didn’t care if he went to Target by himself to register and that he could ask for every Nerf gun in the toy aisle if that was what he really wanted.
Consider yourselves warned.
What’s the most ridiculous place you’ve dissolved into a puddle of tears?