A Big Fat Mormon Wedding

So, a few days ago I went photo-digging into some ancient photo-files

(to find a wedding picture for the anniversary that I forgot about),
and I stumbled upon this gem. It was taken at my wedding.
(The one I have officially forgotten ever took place.)
And then I remembered that I still have not blogged about their wedding.

Holy. Fail.


And can I just say (yes I can because this is my blog) that if this was any other wedding, I wouldn't waste precious cyber-space space on it. I would move on with my life. But, this was no ordinary wedding.
This wedding could eat my wedding for breakfast.
(And my wedding was pretty awesome too. And completely memorable...)

But seriously, their wedding was so amazing I want to marry it.

Here's how it all began.
Brad and Kellie met.
Brad and Kellie dated.
Brad and Kellie got engaged.
We told Brad to marry her as quickly as possible before she changed her mind.
And he did.

That's pretty much it.

We absolutely adore her.
We hope their children have her teeth.
Oh, and her eyes.
Her eyes.
Oh my goodness, her eyes.
If springtime and heaven and dessert had a color, it would be the color of her eyes.

I'm pretty sure that just for their wedding God whipped out his most perfect day.
It was beautiful.
(Side note: Every time I see this picture, I just remember everyone yelling at Holly. So funny.)
(Holly. Holly! HOLLY!! HHHOOOLLLLYYYYY!!!!!!)

Ah hem.
Moving on.
See these dresses? My grandma made them with her own two bare hands.
(And probably a sewing machine too, but still.)
And a jumping picture. What good is a wedding without a jumping picture?
I submit that it is no good.
And then, in the midst of a perfectly good jumping picture opportunity, this happened:
Look closely.
There is a bug trying to eat Brittany.
That was about the time I used my bouquet as a baseball bat.
(And my mom thought those bouquets were a waste of money...)
It all turned out OK in the end though.
I scared the bug off and no one had to die on the sacred temple grounds.
And we even had time to do a little Marilyn pose.
(Brendan, you are the wind beneath my dress.)

Now, I am going to attempt to paint a picture for you.
Here it goes.
My mother transformed our church into a diamond-studded, sparkling, twinkling, candy-coated, tropical paradise, lemon-filled creme puff. You'll see what I mean in a minute.
SEE...WHAT...
I...
MEAN?

This particular flower arrangement was almost the start of WWIII.
Thank goodness no one got hit.

And then the party started.
And, oh, what a party it was.

Highlights include:
-Aubrey full-on doing the Macarana.
-Grandpa busting some moves with the granddaughters.

-Eating enough candy to make a professional candy-taste-tester sick. And then eating some more. And then another handful. Oh, and then some more.
-Braden shaking it like a Polaroid Picture.
-Getting accidentally groped by a random stranger. He thought I was one of the other bridesmaids (we're all wearing the exact same thing - who could blame him?) and gave me a nice (though afterward - quite awkward) back rub/hug/around the waist grab.
We laughed it off (and then avoided eye contact the rest of the night).
-Both girls randomly busting out some hard-core break-dancing moves right there on the basketball court floor.
Who knew they had it in them?
(Not. me.)

-Shaking it all night long.-Dancing with my husband.
(Even if we had to do the "deacon dance.")-Hearing the following conversation:
Brad: "Mom, I think we are going to leave now."
Mom: "What?! We haven't done the bouquet toss or the garter toss and it's only 8:20."
Brad: "No, mom. We're leaving. We have to leave. Mom, stop laughing. Seriously, we need to go. We're leaving."

It's funny cause it's true.

I remember having the exact same conversation.