Trick or Treat Wedding -Part One

We were 45 minutes late to the rehearsal dinner and the sudden silence in the hall was palpable as my sister, Darlene, and I followed my nephew, the Groom-to-be, into the room.

For an awkward moment the two of us stood frozen, pinned like butterflies beneath the magnifying glass of disapproval emanating from the long tables of out-of-town family members, future in-laws and wedding attendants.

But then the Wicked Witch of the West jumped to her feet and shouted "Oh, dear, they've missed the Eyeball Soup! Quick, somebody get them some soup!"

I was grateful for the diversion. Almost.

Mainly I was staring back at the rest of the room and thinking, I could use this in a book but who would believe it?

My sister's Ex, walks up to us.  He's dressed as a chef- wearing a white, double-breasted jacket, herringbone-checked pants, a tall white hat and...was that a...a bloody cleaver sticking out from the top of his head? 

"Good to see you again," he says.  "You must try the eyeball soup." My preciousssss

I blink.  As my sister apologizes profusely for being late, my niece and her boyfriend slip past us and melt into the crowd.

Darlene talks too much when she's nervous but who could blame her? How do you carry on witty repartee when your Ex is sporting a bloody Mohawk and your snarky sister is murmuring,  "How appropriate!" in your ear?

Perhaps it's easier to be dignified and gracious when you are Cleopatra. 

I wouldn't know as I am just a tired-looking old woman in a blue, ice fairy costume.

 

No, it's not what's on the outside that makes Darlene the better woman.  She is just a nice person.  She tells her Ex, Eyeball Soup would be lovely and I'm pretty sure she she means it. 

She slips into a seat beside a woman in a skeleton costume and I slink into a chair beside Darlene and try to fade into the background.  Seconds later we are dipping silver spoons into bowls of Tomato Soup and cautiously exploring the floating balls of Mozzarella Cheese that have been topped with sliced green olive "pupils."

My niece is sitting at the table across from ours. She is dressed as Little Red Riding Hood and her boyfriend is beside her, safely hidden behind his giant, Big Bad Wolf mask.

The Mother of the Bride is Tinkerbell. Her husband, a white-haired wraith of a man, is a dressed as a Nordic Viking king.  A cute girl wearing a low-cut Peter Pan costume appears beside us holding plates with "Leg of Fowl" and "Boo Taters."  She sets a dish down and I do a double-take.  A giant turkey leg almost eclipses three tiny, potato klansmen, oh, right-ghosts, with black, sesame seed eyes.

The weekend is only just beginning...