A Close Encounter with Bridezilla

Yesterday, on the phone, my sweetie casually told me that he might not be coming home on Friday as planned. There were some things being discussed that might keep him out on the road until Monday or Tuesday. I nearly lost it. I was thinking:

• We have a wedding to finish planning here!
• We have plane tickets to Northern California for Friday night, and you've booked a hotel room and a rental car!
• You have jury duty next week!
• You have a doctor's appointment on Monday!
• You need to pick up my ring!
• You need to get your suit pants hemmed!
• You need to try on the wedding band I put on hold for you!

And, because I know my sweetie so well, I can tell you he was thinking something along these lines:

• Cool! Three or four more days in London - my favorite city - in a posh hotel. And it's all paid for!!!

So, despite him telling me not to get all worked up, I did. I fumed and mentally stomped my feet and pouted. I complained to my dear mother, and my sweet sister, and to any coworker who made the mistake of asking me how the wedding plans are coming along.

All for nothing, apparently...

I just woke him from a good night's sleep in his fancy hotel room. After a quick, "Hi, Honey! How are you?", I asked the all important question that would either put me over the edge into Bridezilla territory, or put me back to a state of happiness and wellbeing.

"Sowhenareyoucominghome?"

To which he groggily replied, "I'll be home at 2:40 pm on the twelfth."

Whew! That was close!!!