Poop Shute

I wash my hands of this wedding planning business.

At every turn I feel like everything I want for this wedding is rejected. And I don't mean by Meg. With a few exceptions we were mostly on the same page. I'm talking about the bag men, the money men, the parents.

Left and right, the things that Meg and I had decided on were all but out-right vetoed. Her Dad and my Dad did that thing where they say that they don't like "X" but they prefer "Y" and then they gently remind you of who is paying the bill.

Meg's Dad and Aunt had made some choices of their own already, but for a while my Dad was just going along and saying "okay" to what we wanted. I thought my Dad was going to be cool about the whole thing. But last night he joined the darkside. He basically said that our choice of food for the recepton is not okay with him, and that he didn't want to throw what amounted to a frat party.

FRAT PARTY?!?!

So today I left my Dad a voicemail that went something like this:

Joey: Hi Dad, I didn't want to argue with you with Linda there, because I didn't want to get ganged up on, but Meg and I talked it over and we decided we are done with this whole planning process. If you and Ken want what you want, that's fine. You are paying for this, afterall. But just know that if Meg and I can't have this how we want it then we don't want to be part of the planning anymore. Ken's number is (480)***-**** Give him a call. Meg and I will see the judge by ourselves and plan the ceremony, but the reception is all yours now. I love you. I'm definitely mad at you, but i still love you. Bye.