ERICA: “Wow,” said Greg, “I’m really not liking these.”
Greg just broke my heart into 1,000 pieces, stomped on the shards and then set the whole shebang on fire. Over-dramatic?
Our invitation sample just arrived in the mail. The sample that I previously drooled over, caressed and sang love songs to. So I brought pictures of the sample home and Greg claimed it reminded him of a henna tattoo. But he didn’t say he didn’t like it, just that he’d want to see one in person.
And now he has.
I’m seriously unprepared for this circumstance. Why doesn’t he hear the angels singing like I do!?
Of course, by the end of our conversation he threw in a “Fine, I don’t care. Just order them.” But his tone indicated that he most certainly did care and that if I DID order them, I would likely be signing up for a lifetime of “well, we ordered the wedding invitations you wanted so it only seems fair that we [INSERT MISCELLANEOUS THING THAT GREG WANTS ME TO GIVE IN ON].”
The scary thing is that I’m so desperately in love with these invites, I might just be willing to chance it.