My “little” brother got married over the weekend. In Texas. Approximately 905 miles from our house in Chicagoland. We HAD to go – not only because it was my brother, but because he had asked Maria to share the responsibility of being a flower girl with her cousin Lucie.
My mom generously offered to fly us, but we opted to drive. (She’s not that great of a pilot. Ha.) I know, we’re crazy. It really would have been a hassle to fly, though – what, with six people, four under the age of 8, too many suitcases, renting a van, car seats, etc.
We headed out on Wednesday night and spent a quick night in St. Louis. It should have been a little longer, but for some reason, we couldn’t pull ourselves together enough to get out of town before 7 p.m.
On Thursday, bright and early, we headed south and west, arriving in the Greatest State in the U.S. around 6 p.m. We stopped at the border to celebrate our arrival and the hot weather. (Which didn’t stay hot. As a matter of fact, by the time we left on Monday, we were freezing. Very weird.)
We had a blast seeing friends and family that we hadn’t seen in FOREVER. The bride was gorgeous. The groom was handsome. The rain stopped just for the ceremony. And we partied like rockstars afterward.
Oh, and the flower girls? Perfect.
1 response so far ↓
1 Alexandra // May 9, 2009 at 1:54 am
So now you’re taking the cold to Texas? Just kidding
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