“Who gives this woman to this man?” said the priest.
“I do,” said Robert.
Dottie said, “Please say ‘Her mother and I do.' I spent eighteen years raising Janie. You traveled.”
“Stop it right now. Which do you prefer, Janie?”
“You! Tradition!” their daughter said.
“This is not the bride’s call,” said Dottie.
“You’re right. It’s my call,” said Robert. “Wait and see.”
When prompted at the ceremony, Robert said “I do,” then sat in the pew next to his wife.
“I see,” whispered Dottie, sliding the penknife deeply into her husband’s thigh.
Robert’s cry was one for the ages.
“I do,” said Robert.
Dottie said, “Please say ‘Her mother and I do.' I spent eighteen years raising Janie. You traveled.”
“Stop it right now. Which do you prefer, Janie?”
“You! Tradition!” their daughter said.
“This is not the bride’s call,” said Dottie.
“You’re right. It’s my call,” said Robert. “Wait and see.”
When prompted at the ceremony, Robert said “I do,” then sat in the pew next to his wife.
“I see,” whispered Dottie, sliding the penknife deeply into her husband’s thigh.
Robert’s cry was one for the ages.
