"ALSATIAN COUSIN"

So, my cousin Matt got married this past weekend and I headed back east for the event. He has three small daughters from his first marriage and the bride has three young sons from her first marriage, so it was a very Brady affair. The reception was at a local bed and breakfast kind of place. The cake tipped, it was a cash bar, a thunderstorm rolled in and flooded part of the greenhouse area, but it was fine and my cousin looked tired and stunned but pleased, and what more can anyone ask for, really?

The real fun was the rehearsal dinner. The wine was flowing and, once it was all said and done, my mother slid down a fire pole, a toast was cheerfully made by raising a glass and shouting "fuck you", my brother had stiches and a concussion, a strange Greek homemade booze was smuggled out, my mother, after recovering from the fire pole incident, passed out in the bathroom and spooned a giant dog, all while my cousin's tiny, adorable daughter danced on and on to The Cars and Blondie as she sang to every song perfectly, pausing only to explain that she wants a tatooo of Jack Johnson on her neck, Scooby-doo on her arm and Hello kitty on her back. She and I are so cearly related. Pssh.

On the trek home, I couldn't help but pause and inspect the variety of highway porn establishments. I ran into a couple in one, only a few hours into my return trip. She was due-any-day pregnant, and he admonished her and made her pick out porn to hold him over since she "went and got herself fat and preggers"... oh man. I had seen enough, as everything there was pretty standard and generic for a porn shop anyway, when a woman flung open the door, slapped a can of biscuit dough on the counter and asked if the store carried anything in that size. I think we can safely assume the worst.