He'd gone to the hotel ahead of time to check into the room. Still exciting to walk in the lobby in the white dress. Everyone knows exactly what is next on your agenda.
We'd made arrangements with family to keep the four kids occupied overnight.
I wish I could remember what music we listened to on the way when we left, but I cannot. Something about getting married and all was jacking with my concentration. But the music was poignant at the time.
We held hands.
Only, we were STARVING.
We'd eaten the lovely food at the reception (bacon wrapped chicken breast and center cut pork loin), but we danced it all away. We weren't 50 feet from the club when someone said 'McDonald's'. Again. I mean, someone said it inside but I was too busy dancing to Alice and listening to Melinda sing words I never thought I would hear come out of her mouth to notice. Then my tummy growled.
We pulled into McDonald's behind a gray van. They must have been hungry like us. Wait. Is that? IT WAS. Roger and Mindy were also stummy rumbly because there they were in the drive through at quarter til midnight in front of the married people. Not the first time our minds thought alike. We ordered and giggled. Waved through the windows. I tried to text her, but my phone battery was dead. Oh well. We pulled forward to pay.
"No charge," the kid says. What? "The couple in the van up there covered your order, too. They said to tell you that God thinks you're awesome."
We grinned and then drove full-speed to our hotel with the lovely hot tub.
Where we got undressed and chowed down the McDonald's.
Energy was required after all. I'm married now so I can say on this blog that I was ready to attack him like a bear wants honey.
Here's to being married, yo! Just goes to show, there is ALWAYS room for McDonald's (and less-than-stellar morning-after photography). In our house anyway.