Six Painted Toes

Ahh summer.

The time for flip flops. Tank tops. Drinks in an open-air bar on the waterfront.

Where was I? Oh, summer. The time for...

weddings.

I love them. I love brides, centerpieces, bouquets, you name it. What I don't like? Picking out something to wear, mucking with my hair, shoes, and the like. My favorite wedding hands-down was held on a remote island in Maine, where we danced the night away on the beach in summer clothes and bare feet. Kicked ass.

So halfway to this latest wedding I realized my new momy status had resulted in horribly neglected toes. We quickly stopped at CVS, and in the car I hastily laquered my chipped toenails. The three that were visible in my open-toed heels.

A few days later, we were sunning our buns on York Beach in Maine, laughing at my six painted toes.

I am sooo lazy.

(I have also included the crime-scene photographs from the reception. One sugar-coated bride and groom disappeared suddenly friday night. Their whereabouts are presently unknown.)