‘Cause I’m a good WASP

I went to my sister in law’s wedding this past weekend. It was a good time and, miraculously, I didn’t have a panic attack. I have so many people to thank, but none more than those who truly gave me things to ponder.

I was raised a good ELCA Lutheran in the area surrounding Packer Nation. I was raised to respect my elders and to turn the other cheek and always smile politely through it. Most of the time, I’m fairly good at disregarding those rules, but at fancy familial functions (say that 5 times fast), the WASP in me rears her head and my ability to tell people to fuck off is gone.

How does being older than someone grant you the right to be rude, unpleasant, and, in general, a complete dick to anyone you want? I don’t see how I’m supposed to nice and kind to you if you’re not going to return the favor. I watched people from the opposing aisle be kind, polite, and generally very welcoming (although I’m sure it wasn’t without drama, because it was a wedding. The only things higher on the drama scale are high school/middle school dances and prom.). Needless to say, the free wine at the reception was extremely helpful.

The best part of the entire affair (and I say affair because it was messy, full of drama, and at least one person was pissed off and crying) was getting to dance with my wife. She and I didn’t dance at our wedding (too small a space), and we didn’t dance last year at a wedding we went to. It was so sweet of her to be so willing when I know she hates doing it. Thank God I went to homecoming my freshman year of high school so I knew procedure.


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