be personal / {plan be}

{Plan Be} Being stuck. Between a door and another door.

Merry Sunday all.

And merry it’s been.
It’s been very very braw ootside, and I found a new favourite in Boris Becker.  What banter that man has.  Unintentionally too.  Brilliant.
The tennis itself.. Oh to the my to the oh. Not a huge watcher of the sport, ordinarily, but bloomin’ nora, I was into it today.  Oooft.

But anyway, before the main tale of wedding… and all the pictures I can’t wait to share…

Here’s another wee story.  {and to warn any traditionalists out there.. this contains scenes of a naked and untraditional nature.  But it’s part of our story, so I’ll tell it…}

It was 5am ish, on the Sunday of wedding….

Mr D and I are bunking up in one of the empty rooms… The cold one.  Underneath the noisy ones.  In a single bed.  Bottom bunk.  This next part, is funny because I forgot my pyjamas…
Yup, this was on the morning of our wedding day…..

Most wedding-havers choose not to see each others FACES even, the night before nor morning of.  Me, I had to sleep in the nuddy.  Aye, in a single bunk-bed.  With the almost-husband.  {So romantic. Swoon-worthy, I tell you}
And so, when I woke to the sound of many a drunkard falling off a bunk bed in the room directly above us, and went to peek and make sure things were ok, and let our bedroom door shut, AND LOCK, behind me, and found myself trapped in a box-like area between our room and the MAIN LIVING ROOM… I panicked.  Just a tad.  For I, the almost-wife, was naked.  NAKED.  And stuck.  Between two friggin’ doors.  With an extremely deep sleeper of an almost-husband behind one.  And an alarmingly large {considering we were getting married in less than 10 hours??} horde of drunken wedding guests taking full advantage of being invited to an entire weekend of celebrations, and so living it right up in the living room, behind the other.
OH MY FECK.
Ok I had pants on, but really, PANTS.  What the crud do knickers really do?  Wee wifey knickers.  Not enough, thats what.
With one bare, very grubby looking {damn those soggy converse} foot wedging the living room door shut, I knocked on the bedroom one.. Nothing.
JOHN!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAKE UP!!!!!!!!! I’M STUCK!!!!!!!! AND IM NAKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”  Nothing.  How loud could I knock without the steamers hearing and stumbling through like a bunch of zombies looking for a laugh.  I couldn’t risk it.  Could I?  Oh lovely couple, how did you start your married lives together? Well the groom went head first into our new life together with the knowledge that all of his closest friends, a group of 20-something males, all had the drunken pleasure of seeing his new wifey in the big bare buff on our wedding day.
Nice.
Oh.My.Jings.
Doing that silent screaming thing, and swearing at myself in a creepy whisper, 10 minutes passed {ok maybe it was 5 or 6, but in that situation, any number of minutes are way too long.. try it, go and get stuck somewhere in the buff} There really, definitely wasn’t a solution.  I was going to have to hammer and hope.  Hammer and hope.
THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD, eesh BUGGER.
Ten seconds or so later, {did I mention it was freezing in between those doors??} Almost-Husband opens the door with a look of complete sleep-stupidity and confusion {not unlike his normal morning face} and says,
What are you doing?
Ehhhhh, I just went for a wee early morning jog.  IN MY PANTS.
Oh.  Come back in, he says.
??????????????????????????????????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
With barely a glance, he lets me in the door, gets back in to bed, leaving a wee bit duvet and bed for me, and sleeps.  Almost instantly.  While I stand there, frozen, nuddy and…. merry.
Why merry you ask?
Well, because standing there I realised that, even when the situation is absurd, even when it’s 5 in the morning, even when I’ve been possibly roaming about a house full of people, with no clothes on, even when I look grumpy and ready to moan at him for being such a big sleeper.  Even in THAT situation.  Mr D is always just pleased that I’m back.  Even if he didn’t realise I was away.
When I come back, he is pleased.  And I’m always pleased to BE back.  From wherever I’ve been {not just inbetween doors}.
So I got back into bed, promised myself I would always pack pyjamas, and went to sleep.

We were getting married in a few hours….

x

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