Closing up shop for a couple days so I can go be in sis-in-law's wedding and wear my lovely vest.

Turns out we're staying at my parents' house. It amuses me that we found this out so recently. I'm not very good at planning ahead, I guess. I'm much more about living in the moment.

Actual conversation with Mom:

Mom: Brother and little sis are coming to stay for the weekend, so starting Friday we're going to put you up in a hotel.

Me: Uh...okay.

Mom: It's just as well, because something died under the house, and it smells kind of bad.

Me: Really.

Mom: I think it was the possum.

Me: Er...the possum?

Mom: Yes. He and Tigger used to pal around on the deck and share food.

Me: They got along?

Mom: I think a coon killed him. One kept appearing on the deck and washing everything. That's what coons do. There were little bits of cat food floating in the water dish all of a sudden.

Seeing as how we used to have these devil racoons in the neighborhood that would drop from trees to attack innocent lawn-mowing peeps, this is entirely possible.

By the way, despite what it may sound like, my parents live like a mile from downtown, not on the farm from Where the Red Fern Grows. Dallas just has a more varied array of fauna than you might expect. For example, for awhile there there seriously was a pack of wild dogs, fronted by an actual coyote, roaming my parents' neighborhood.

Yeah. Good times.

Anyway, be back soon with all sorts of wedding tales of buying sexy underwear for close family members (ew!) and being grossed-out by the gyrations of naked, lotion-covered men who have shaved 99% of their body hair off (Yay strippers? Not so much.).

I anticipate the highlight of the upcoming nuptials as being the moment when I trail after the bagpiper the parents-of-the-groom have hired to play at the reception (oh yes!), requesting he play "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?" over and over until he passes out and I can crow over his fallen body "We have a piper down! I repeat, a piper is dooooown!" in an overdone Scottish accent.