When TV speaks the Truth

As heard last night on How I Met Your Mother (which is basically one of two sitcoms I actually like, the other being Scrubs, and HIMYM is better now than Scrubs is) last night:

Ted (to Barney): Dude, do not pretend you're not a guy who keeps a list of all the girls he's slept with.
Marshall: I have one. It's called my marriage license. (He and Lily high-five.)

Me (to Kate): Hey, we have one of those! And our parents signed it, too!

My mom and brother's hands and our marriage certificate.

Every so often, Kate and I find ourselves talking about this time last year, when we were six week from our wedding. Every day it was an insane jumble of callingtherestaurantcallingtheloftcallingtheseamstresscallingourmothers that never seemed to end. We both have dreams, every now and then, that we're having another wedding, and we wake up and clutch each others hands. "I dreamt we were getting married again," we say. "Oh, God, let's never do that. Never ever."

But the wedding itself? Perfect, for the value of perfect that includes needing insane stories to tell about it. And now, look at us, eleven months later, settled and happy with a baby on the way. God damn, we're conventional. And we never have to have another wedding again.

More wedding photos here if you want them.