Planning a wedding is like a presidential election cycle: it takes much longer than you thought it would, it costs much more than you think it should and some of your relatives have really strange opinions about it.
This past weekend my fiance, David, and I registered for the aforementioned event. An event which, like the election, is hundreds of days away. I don’t know why I insisted we register so early. I think I thought it would be fun. Like Supermarket Sweep or an All-You-Can-Eat buffet on a cruise ship! Girl. It was not. It was a scene!
It was literally two hours of existential crisis. How many place-settings should I get for the Thanksgiving dinner we’re going to one day have at the house that we’ll one day buy and who will be at that dinner and what playlist should I use? ECRU OR BONE COLORED TOWELS? THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!
By the end of it I was exhausted. At one point I thought “maybe we’re not enjoying this because we’re guys. Women like to shop.” Child who put these gender norms on my registry? Where is the gift receipt? Store credit please! I was so tired I got unwoke.
I’m still recovering so I’m going to let our future/could be/also ran fearless leaders illustrate the many phases of registering for wedding presents (cue the First World Problems National Orchestra):
When the salesperson notices you hemming and hawing over two different vases and says “Why don’t you get both?!” and you and your fiance look at each other like
And then she says “Go on, register for that Wedgewood china. You deserve it!” And you’re all
But then you notice that included in the Wedgewood china is a $500 vegetable serving dish
And you’re like “Hold up, we don’t even like vegetables” And your fiance is all “You’re mumbling. I can’t hear you. Oh look! Napkin rings!”
“Why would we put the napkin in a ring? It’s such a waste of effort. And where does the ring go when the napkin is on my lap? Wait, don’t answer that.”
And your fiance is like “I am this close to losing it with you right now.”
You: “Seriously. This is nuts. We don’t even have napkins at the house. We’ve been using paper towels for a week.”
Then you spot the Kitchen Aid Stand Mixer attachments!
And wonder if you need a fondue set.
“Okay next store!”
When the very enthusiastic salesperson is like “We have 26 bedding patterns for you to choose between!”
And you try to fade into the wallpaper at Pottery Barn
And then consider hiring a body double to finish this trip
When, in the end, the salesperson is all “OMG this is my favorite pattern! I can’t believe you chose it! You all have superb taste! What are your colors?! What are your flowers? I’m obsessed with you.” and you’re just like, “Okay.”
And both of you wander out into the dark parking lot, trying to figure out what just happened and whether it was like this when your brother went through it.