So there are a few events one should never be late to; weddings (especially your own) and funerals (only my wife could pull that off).

After paying to park in the wrong parking lot five minutes before the start of the wedding, I graciously (#&*%#) accepted my wife’s plea to pull back onto the road and get closer to the church.  As we strode in, now three minutes late, a calm sigh left both our lips as the voices of other guests filled the foyer.

We even spotted my wife’s friends and immediately joined them, eager to walk in with other naughty late people. Following a brief greeting, I nudged my wife (which she loves) and motioned down the side aisle. After all, we didn’t want the bride to beat us into the church. My wife’s friends, however, were taking their sweet time.

Ready to execute let’s-get-going move two, a brief sleight of hand in the lower back region, my wife’s expression went from fake smiles to oh crap. Pulling back hand-that-would-have-been-chopped-off, I leaned in, expecting a forgotten gift or wrong undergarment disaster. Before I realized the happy situation, Wifey’s friend commented on how cute the flower girl was during the ceremony…

Please use my grand mistakes for your writing purposes.