Around Our Heads

On our wedding day, I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. So I got up and left the bedroom to answer it. Chris was still asleep. Even Avery wasn’t up yet. So I whispered when I answered so I didn’t wake them.

“Hello?” I asked.

“Rise and shine, Bridezilla. Today’s the big day,” Olivia replied. I grunted. “Get in the shower, get Avery ready, and I’m coming to get you. Josh will be over to get Chris later.” I grunted again. “Get ready, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I hung up the phone and returned to the room to find something to wear.

Olivia and Josh got married completely unannounced at the courthouse. Literally one day, Josh just came over and was like, “Yeah, so remember that girl I introduced you to last week? Well, I married her today.” To which Chris and I replied with, “What?” simultaneously. They had only been dating for like a month. So I’m guessing that was why she was kind of going a bit crazy about our wedding.

Even though Josh and Olivia had only been together a short time before they got married and started popping out kids, they really loved each other. Olivia told me that she met Josh back when they were both interns at the same comic book company. And she had a mad wicked crush on him, but he didn’t really notice her. Then years later, after his baseball career took off, he came back to work on this comic he wanted to do, and boom. Instant love. They got married during her lunch break one day. They DID eventually have a wedding “party,” they called it. Where everyone came to their house and celebrated this wedding that no one got to see. Olivia wore a white shirt with white jeans, and Josh wore black. It was kind of cute.

But I was having a wedding where people could attend and prepare for it. So Olivia was doing everything in her power to make it as much a cliché as she possibly could. She picked out this dorky white outfit for me to wear as we got ready. It was a pair of stretchy white yoga pants that said “Bride” right across my ass in some glittery sparkles. And the shirt said the same thing across my boobs and was too tight on my stomach, so it popped out the bottom. But once I was done showering, I threw my hair up and went back to the bedroom, glittering and sparkling in my white outfit.

Then I realized Chris was awake. He was holding the blankets up over his head like he was making a fort. I heard him whisper, “Shhh,” and then Avery giggled.

“Oh no,” I said. “What’s this giant lump doing in my bed? I’m going to have to investigate.” I heard her laugh again. I went over to the bed and poked the lump. She giggled harder. “This weird lump makes weird noses. I wonder what it is.” I reached up to pull the blanket back down, but Chris beat me to it. The blanket flew forward, and they both looked up at me with their identical smiles and fake mustaches on their faces.

“Look, mommy, I have a moo-stash!” Avery shouted. I laughed.

“Now, where on earth did you get a mustache?” I asked.

“Daddy found them at the nine nine store, and he got one for you too.”

“He did?”

“Here,” he said, handing it out to me. I peeled off the sticker and stuck it to my face.

“Thanks for giving me the ugliest stash,” I told him.

“Avery picked out the other two. Sorry.”

“If I could grow one, it wouldn’t look like this.”

“Just give me the mustache. I’ll trade you.” He reached forward and ripped it off of my lip. Then he handed his over. It was a handlebar mustache, so I stuck it to my face.

“I like handlebars better anyway,” I told him.

“Looks better on you,” he decided.

“Mommy? Mommy? What about my moo-stash?” Avery asked as she wiggled excitedly.

“Your mustache is the best mustache I’ve ever seen. You’ve got like a really cool 70s cop mustache, and it’s wicked cool.”

“Do I look like a cop? ‘Es-cuse me, mister officer, sir?” she said with a fake deep voice. I laughed.

“You’re so silly. ‘What can I do for you, Miss officer, ma’am?” I replied. She seemed to find that amusing and giggled.

“We gots ta get daddy, sir, ’cause he has a bad ugly moo-stash.”

“Yes, he does. Let’s beat him up.” She rolled over to get Chris, and I climbed onto the bed. We both tickled him, and he laughed and struggled to get away from us.

“No!” he yelled. “Don’t blame me! Blame the bad, ugly moo-stash! Help! Help!” Avery was giggling harder than he was. Then he finally retaliated by knocking us both back onto the bed and tickling us at the same time. We were both shrieking and laughing.

“No, daddy!” she screamed. “We forgot the baby’s moo-stash!” He stopped.

“Oh yeah. Thanks for reminding me. Would you like to do the honors?”

“Yes, sir!” He handed over another sticker with a handlebar mustache on it. “Mommy, this one’s for the baby, so it can have a moo-stash too.”

“Oh, cool,” I said, lifting my shirt up over my stomach. “Go ahead and stick it on there.” She peeled the paper off the back and stuck it right above my belly button.

“I need a picture of this,” Chris decided. So he grabbed his phone and took a picture of Avery posing with my stashed stomach.

“We want you in it too,” I told him. So he laid down next to my stomach and angled the phone, so he could get a shot of all of us with our awesome mustaches.

“This is the best day ever,” Avery proclaimed.

“I think you’re right,” Chris agreed.