Anne is getting married.
Steph is getting married.
Their boys did so well. Anne's engagement happened by a giant tree--and if there's anything Anne likes more than science, it's nature. And trees. Giant trees you hike to admire. Her boy asked her under a giant tree if she'd like to be his wife, and she said she would.
Steph's boy changed into a special shirt before he came out to ask her if she'd like to marry him, and Steph couldn't stop saying, "Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God." And then her parents came through the door with balloons. They'd been in on the whole thing.
Those boys did well. And now two more Pink Torpedoes are on their way to getting married, which will bring us to a total of three out of five. Amy and I are bringing up the rear, but she's close, close, close. So if you want to place bets on who'll be the last to go, the safe money is on me.
But I'm okay with that. Especially if it means that I, in my official Wedding Zeal, my official I-Wish-I-Had-a-Wedding-to-Plan effervescence, get to do things like this to test some things out, to see just how beautiful these girls--these girls who've been my friends since we were in elementary school, since we knew who was kissing whom behind the cubby-holes and who was peeing their pants on the circle at snack time--are going to look when they come down whatever type of aisle they're going to set up: