Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Chris won't let me touch his pot.

We hosted a fairly large-ish engagement party BBQ this weekend over here at Camp Cantwell. The entire day came as a not-so-gentle reminder that I am not as extroverted as I am inclined to expect myself to be. The amount of people who showed up for the BBQ is a fair representation of how many people will be at our wedding, and although I adore each and every one of them (EVEN MY FUTURE IN-LAWS!) individually, the grand mass of people as a whole is totally overwhelming. I am never, ever complaining about not being able to invite more people to the wedding again.

Aside from the chocolate covered strawberries and the deviled eggs, the best part of the day was when everyone had left, the kids were in bed, and Chris and I sat on the living room floor opening our presents. It's hilarious that we were so excited about things that we had essentially picked out for ourselves, but we were like little kids on Christmas. We ripped open presents, screamed, and were near delirious with glee. Well, except when Chris opened up the gift from his grandparents. When Chris saw that he had an All-Clad pot and pan in front of him, to call his very own, he looked as if they had been set in front of him by Jesus Christ Himself. I will state here for the record that my fiance ain't no sissy man, but he got tears in his eye. I think I tried to snap him out of his religious experience with his new cookware by saying, "You can use those to make something for dinner tomorrow night!" He looked at me like I had just suggested Rachael Ray run for president, or that I had told him I was really craving some frog legs. "Oh no no no no Honey," he said in a church-whisper. "I can't use these! I can't get them dirty!" Right. I'm sorry. I didn't realize when we were doing our registry that those were shiny stainless steel works of art we were asking for. Silly me. One can understand my confusion- they were right there in the middle of the cookware section. Next up, we opened up the coffee maker of our dreams. After the whoops and the high-fives, I made sure to clarify that we were actually allowed to use it. For coffee. We are.

And I'm sorry for anyone who, from the nature of the subject line, assumed I was referring to drug use. NOT THAT SORRY, FOOLED YOU! NEENER NEENER NEENER!!!

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