10 days on the wedding countdown
Kirsten has a really great friend from high school that I absolutely adore. Nate. Oh Nate. I love him.
Nate used to live in LA before going to medical school in Chicago and we used to have lots of fun. One early morning some years ago after a long and crazy night, we were all at Kirsten’s and Nate decided he absolutely had to have a shower then and there at 6am. When he got out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, we engaged him in conversation. He was standing in the doorway of the bathroom and the bedroom, we were lying on Kirsten’s bed like three peas in a pod. All of a sudden, Rena yelled out, “Show us your package!” and an eternal friendship was born. (PS - He didn’t not succumb to peer pressure… the towel stayed on.)
I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier but it just occured to me that Nate is probably invited to Kirsten’s wedding. So I asked Kirsten today if Nate was coming and she explained that either he or his fiancee are on call at the hospital that weekend and are doubting that they can make it. Unacceptable! I won’t have it! So I’ve started sending him wedding countdown text messages. “10 days until Kirsten becomes Mrs. Scott - you’d better be there.”
He wrote back telling me how sorry he was but he doubted he’d make it but wishes me all the happiness in the world. Huh?! Oh. He thought I was Kirsten. Haha. Normally Kirsten and I are never mistaken for each other. We have completely different styles. For example, I received an email from her today. The subject line read, “Masterpiece,” and the body stated simply, “I want to report that today I laid a 12-inch PLUS unbroken poop. It was truly a work of art.”