This week, your faithful wedding coordinator (me) discovered the real hazard at a San Pedro wedding isn’t the weather, the golf carts, or even the sargassum.
It’s the mother-in-law.
Marina, the bride, was a dream. Calm, polite, trusted the plan.
Her mother-in-law? She arrived with instructions like she was running the ceremony herself.
All day it was:
“Straighten the chairs.”
“Move the arch.”
“Fix your face.”
Meanwhile, Marina had already told me exactly what she wanted. But the mother-in-law took a quick trip to town, bought fake lilies, and told me I needed to add them to our arrangements.
By rehearsal, Marina had reached her limit.
She leans in and says, sweet as ever,
“Can you move that chair more to the left?”
I looked at the chair. Looked at the coconut tree above it. Did the math.
“Marina… I can’t move that chair, that’s your mother-in-law’s chair. If the wind shifts, a coconut might fall… and hit her.”
Marina’s smile grew wide.
Wider than it should’ve.
I looked at her, and she just winked.
The events and characters depicted in Wolfe’s Woofer by Melody S. Wolfe are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The column is intended for satire and entertainment purposes only.
