This Seems To Be My Pattern
The last couple of episodic vacation recaps seem to have petered out before I got to the big finale and return home. Rather than keep dragging all this vacationy goodness out, I'm going to see if I can't finish this up. These wedding recap entries are getting rather tedious, stretched out as they are. I'm going to hurry up and summarize the rest of my trip - The Main Event, The Curious Side Show and New Uses for Cotton. And Prayer.
Sunday: The day of the wedding dawned sunny, and we spent the morning at the house, watching Sonny work her magic on several lovely floral arrangements. As the morning progressed, huge bursts of rain and wind swept over the house, overwhelming the gutters one minute, and then disappearing almost instantly. We relaxed and chatted, reviewing the trip so far, and anticipating the wedding. As the wedding hour approached, we packed up the car and headed down the mountain. We had time before the ceremony to stop at an ABC Store to pick up souvenirs for my kids. With my arms loaded with grass skirts a ukulele and a couple of boxes of chocolate covered macademia nuts, I might as well have been wearing a hat that said "TOURIST!"
The wedding took place at sunset, and went off without a hitch. My sister and aunt serenaded the couple in perfect harmony. The bride was gorgeous, and my brother was absolutely glowing with happiness. The ceremony was lovely, and afterwards, we all descended on the house of my new sister-in-law's uncle for the fairytale reception.
The decor was magical, and the food was wonderful. From the gourmet hors d'oevres to the amazing dinner selections, the food was out of this world rich and luxurious.
After the couple was toasted and the cake was cut, I was sitting down to enjoy my piece of cake when I heard a woman's voice ring out: "Call 911!"
There were several very senior members of the bride's family present, so my first thought was that one of them had become ill. Nope, turned out to be my dad. Um...
Turns out that drinking either coffee or alcohol for a few straight days can dehydrate a body. Add in a few additional glasses of wine, and another of champagne, plus some rich cream sauces and elegant cake, and my poor dad was sick as a dog and very embarrassed. Due to his age and symptoms, paramedics were called. He was taken out of the reception on a guerney, and the rest of our side of the family quickly followed, after making hurried goodbyes to the newlyweds and her family members.
And so it came to pass that I spent a good chunk of the evening at Maui's only emergency room. My dad was rehydrated while my mom stayed with him in the room. My sister, my cousin and I waited in the waiting room. Then my sister and my cousin left with my aunt, leaving me in the waiting room. Alone. Waiting.
Man, there were some sick, hacking, dry-heaving people in there. Eww. When my mom appeared to check on me, I demanded the keys to the rental car, and I plopped myself down in the backseat and promptly went to sleep.
Boy, I'm a big comfort to my parents, huh?
Once we got back up to the house, we all turned in quickly, because most of us were departing the next morning. My sister and I woke up, packed and ate a final breakfast of yummy, yummy croissants before my parents drove us to the airport. We arrived at the gate, had a hour to kill, bought a bunch of chocolate-covered macademia nuts and some sandwiches, ate all of that stuff up before boarding the plane, and amused ourselves by watching our fellow passengers.
There was one family with two little boys who were losing it. In the waiting room. Our flight was delayed about an hour, and by the time we boarded, we figured the little guys would have run out of steam. Uh, no.
Oh, there was screaming. And tantrums. And seat kicking, and more tantrums and more screaming. For the entire flight. Before we were even off the ground, the lady in front of me stood up, announced to the passengers at large that she was going to go put the fear of God into those children, and she marched off to do just that.
The kids screamed anyway. Seems they didn't take her seriously.
20 minutes before we landed, my sister and I noticed that the lady next to us was rocking back and forth, whispering "happy place, happy place, happy place."
Upon landing, everyone was scrambling for their luggage, eager to get away from the screaming toddlers. The fear of God lady in front of us was ranting about the boys and their mother, who she claims caused all this because she was rebellious against God. The fear of God lady was apparently a minister, and she announced that those spoiled children were in need of serious prayers and some pacifiers to shut their rebellious mouths with. And barring that, she felt that packing their mouths with cotton would do the trick. Said she'd seen it done before, and it worked like a charm.
See, these experiences allow one to learn new and helpful, downright God-fearing tricks to silence your children. Cotton. Packed into mouths. Ooookay.
So then we deplaned finally, got our luggage, got in the van and went home. The end.