Ann Ipock
            Humorist, author, speaker

Eight Days in July That Went Awry
by Ann Ipock

Have you ever felt like you were living in “The Twilight Zone?” I have. In fact, I recently spent eight days there, from Sunday to Sunday.

I actually went to Raleigh to help my sister Nancy. She was preparing that week for her son Huck’s wedding to Heather. I thought I’d calm Nancy’s nerves, run errands, cook meals, and even – so out of character for me – clean her house. Russell, my hubby and naysayer, often says, “No good deed ever goes unpunished.” He might be right.

For starters, it was hot as Hades that week. Even a supposed cool splash in a pool proved unnerving. With zillions of kids swimming around me amidst warm water, one thing came to mind. So, I jumped out; and instead, sweated off my Bain de Soleil poolside, in a blasting-hot vinyl chair. That night my feet burned. Upon inspection, they resembled bubble wrap – blistered, from the scorching concrete. And, I developed a cold sore the size of Cleveland above my lip.

I also watched our granddaughter Madison for two days. One morning we walked (but mostly sweated) around the neighborhood. The next day I drove her to “my” gym for classes. Okay, I admit I was half-asleep at 8:00 am – that’s early for me – when we left the house. Hours later my daughter, Kelly, fussed at me for sending Madison off in her pajamas. What can I say? They looked like regular clothes to me: a colorful crop top and matching capris. This Grammy Gram thing is tougher than I once thought.

Nancy and I made repeated trips to craft stores, party stores, wedding shops and stationery shops where I clutched the coveted LIST that we continually added to. Once, after leaving A.C. Moore for the fourth time in two days and jumping into Nancy’s car, I screamed, “The list – it’s missing!” Nancy nearly slung me out of the car, turning around on two wheels and landing squarely on the sidewalk. The frightened clerk must have sensed my hysteria, as she joined my “buggy search,” consoling me with, “Don’t worry, honey.” It was no use – it was gone! I found it later inside the car, and held it tightly in my sweaty palm till bedtime.

Russell, the doubter, also says I over plan. You think? Was that because I decided we’d host my parents’ sixtieth wedding anniversary celebration that same week? So what if there was a little confusion when Nancy and I simultaneously discussed entrees, cake, flowers and slide shows – for Huck’s rehearsal dinner and for our parent’s party. Sadly, Mom had a stomach virus and couldn’t attend. We held it anyway, videoing the whole thing: 28 guests toasting them. Inside the large restaurant, I managed to get lost (not so lucky). After leaving the bathroom, I circled around unfamiliar faces until finally, the manager rescued me. He placed his hand on my shoulder and guided me back to our private room, where everyone applauded. Was I really gone that long?

Weeks earlier, I had picked out a favorite dress for the rehearsal dinner, but Katie, our daughter, forgot to. Flying in from a summer music festival in Sewanee, Tennessee, she had only “concert black” for attire. So, Nancy’s angelic neighbor offered to lend Katie something. At the airport, I swooshed her into the bathroom and helped her quickly change into the wrap-around mint-green linen dress with no buttons or zippers – only a sash to tie. Easy enough. She looked beautiful, though I noticed the hem lining was showing. No matter, I thought, rushing through the busy RDU airport, out to our car. We arrived at the Cardinal Club just as the party began.

Bethany’s shocked face revealed the problem, “Katie, your dress is INSIDE OUT!”

Moments later, I was the one shocked, saying to Nancy, “Did you know you have on two different black earrings?”

“Oh, Ann, please tell me you are kidding,” she said.

“I’m not,” I said, immediately handing her my own matching black earrings. I also lent her my velvet/rhinestone flip-flops later when her achy-breaky feet started hurting. Isn’t that what sisters are for?

The next day, even more wedding-related blunders surfaced. An usher (perhaps hung-over?) fouled up the seating, forcing Nancy to squeeze into an undersized pew leaving an entire pew empty in the standing room only church. In the next pew, Madison, one of two flower girls, was seated with us. Upon seeing Kelly up front, preparing to read scripture, Madison called out, “Hey, Mommy!” and waved. Everyone laughed! Otherwise, she was perfectly quiet and well mannered.

The air conditioning in the church wasn’t cooling well. Therefore, the bride, groom, and all attendants were sweating bullets. I wanted to cry – from emotion, empathy and heat!

At the lavish reception, complete with an ice carving, chocolate fondue fountain, several gourmet food stations, countless beverages, we danced till we dropped, posed for photos, and shared stories. But before the night ended, another slip up: A bridesmaid’s zipper split wide open, exposing her entire back.

Huck and Heather left amongst cheers in a vintage Bentley for a motel an hour away, planning to fly out at 6 am the following day for Cap Jaluca, Anguilla. Nancy went home and collapsed onto bed when the phone suddenly rang. It was Huck. “Mama, I forgot some luggage. Can you drive it over now?” Without hesitation, Nancy did so – therefore, stretching the theory, “That’s what moms are for,” to the limit.

It’s no wonder I was eager to get home on the eighth day hoping for some normalcy. No such luck! Our car died a mile from home, resulting in a new alternator. I think maybe we need a new life?

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