The Cruz/Vondracek wedding went smashingly Saturday. Father Dave--who I suspect was pulling on a three foot bong before the Mass--enlisted the attendants' aid in constructing a "force field of love" to deflect a gathering rainstorm. It worked for the duration of the service, which included all the traditional Filipino touches (binding the couple in cords which function like Hephaestus' trap for Ares and Aphrodite, wrapping them in a coccoon of silk, and a parade of titos, titas, ninongs, and ninangs). Father Dave rushed through the Mass in a record 45 minutes*, as he was badly jonesing for Cheetos (Corpus Christi CRUNCH!). He only referred to Leesha as 'Theresa' once, and then denied it, but his faux pas was caught on tape.
The reception was a great time, and featured the triumphant return of Move Like Seamus after a too-long hiatus. I pulled out all the drunken-white-man dances in my vast repertoire: the Funky Chicken With Its Head Cut Off, the Running Man with Sciatica, the Mashed Mr. Potatohead, and the Tangoed Up in Blue. Some of the Canadian contingent of Flip Aunties objected that there was no linedancing tune, but Cha got them up to do the Hustle anyhow.
It took a while to find Dadong for the daddy/daughter dance, but all turned out well.
Now the happy couple are off to Ecuador and thence to Galapagos for two weeks of relaxation. We wish them the best, and will make the most of our babysitting duties.
*Our wedding took twice as long.