There was no turning back. Formal invitations scrawled in brick red and royal blue Crayola had been hand delivered to ten of my friends on the playground.
The location had been painstakingly scouted, and the alley by the best man Brandon’s house was deemed the ideal place for a wedding.
I had dusted off my Cinderella dress I had abandoned after Halloween and even brushed the brambles from my hair.
My bridesmaids stood lined up at the end of the alley, arranged meticulously to navigate the topsy-turvy world of first grade playground politics.
The minister- my brother was preparing to read from Dr. Seuss’ Oh the Places You Will Go.
Today was the day I pledged to marry Ryan Kenny.
The wedding went off without a hitch. Basically it came down to my brother reading us the immortal words of Dr. Seuss and a brief “I do.”
As we turned to walk down the aisle, Ryan made his first mistake- he leaned in to kiss the bride.
NO way was that happening- I was six and boys were still plagued with cooties! I smacked him in the face with my bouquet.
I promptly turned to my maid of honor- “I want a divorce.”
And that folks, was my first marriage. All thirty seconds.
