Wedding Humor Story

Another story from when our son got married & my dad...

As mother-of-the-groom, one of my jobs was to walk down the aisle and light my son's candle for him to have available for the unity candle. So mother-of-the-bride and mother-of-the-groom walked down the aisle together, lit our candles, then retreated. I was then escorted down the aisle back to the first pew, and sat next to my father. In his none-too-quiet voice, he turned to me and said, "Well, aren't YOU special."

Wedding Joke -- Here Comes The Bride

I went to a wedding this weekend. It reminded me of "a funny" which happened to my sister when she got married several years ago.

Our father was pushing 80, and on a drug which gave him lousy short-term memory, as well as release any inhabitions he may have had. My sister planned an outdoor wedding. It downpoured. The only shelter was a walk-around porch around 2 sides of a nearby building, which was locked. So half the guests stood along one side, while the other half stood along the other. Dad walked my sister down the aisle.

He knew it was her wedding. He knew there was no music. So he decided to add his own.

"Here comes the bride...," he started singing in his booming bass voice. My sister felt warm and wonderful. Her daddy was singing to her when all other music for her wedding had failed. "... Big, fat and wide..." he concluded in his same loud voice.

My Dying Request(s)

A friend's mother is dying. It's a struggle for her to speak even one word. I've decided to aide both my family and future care givers by laminating personal cards in advance. If I ever get to a point when I can't speak, I will simply hold up a card, indicating what I want, like: "Chocolate!"

Locked Out

My dad's in his late 80's. One evening, I took my parents out to eat. Afterwards, I pulled our van smack dab in front of the restaurant door, left it running, then dashed around to help both parents get in and situated. As I was trotting back to the driver's side, I heard a "click." Dad had locked me out, van running, and windows up.

"Unlock the doors, Dad," I yelled. He was a little deaf, as well. The closed windows didn't help.

"I didn't lock the doors," he gruffed back.

"Why'd you lock her out?" accused my mother.

"I didn't lock her out."

"Yes, you did. Let her in."

"She can get in."

It was always difficult to butt in when the two of them got to arguing. But as more and more people walked around the van in order to get in and out of the restaurant, I tapped on the driver's window.

"Dad, look at me."

"What?"

"Roll... UP... your... window."

He looked confused, probably because he could tell his window was already up.

"Roll up your window," I repeated.

Since Mother was no longer nagging him -- probably because she saw the same thing as he, and was equally confused -- Dad "rolled up the window" with a click. I quickly climbed in before he could "roll it back down," for our poor old van actually has handles to roll down and up windows, but near each handle is a button to lock and unlock the doors.