Can you spell that for me?

I'll start by letting you know that the wedding this weekend was incredible. Touching, sweet, personal, fun and memorable. Mike was relaxed and happy and Molly looked absolutely stunning. Chad said it best, "She had a smile on her face the whole day... and her smile is so pretty."

And I only cried during about five different parts of the weekend. So all in all - it was a big success. The happy couple are currently honeymooning at the Grove Park Inn in Asheville, N.C. (super jealous), and we can't wait for them to come home. Mol and I might have broken some sort of honeymoon code by talking yesterday afternoon - but we didn't care. I miss them already.

So moving on - this post was not supposed to be wedding related, but I didn't want to leave you hanging with no update.

On Saturday night, with my grandparents still in town, we decided to head to our favorite Mexican joint for dinner. Since we were having a group of about nine, my dad decided to call ahead to make reservations.

This is what we overheard:

Dad: "Ah, yes. We have a group of about nine coming in for dinner tonight at 6:45. Yes - nine people at 6:45. You can put the reservations under Ed. E...D."

At this point, me, my mom, husband and brother are CRYING laughing so hard that he is spelling Ed. Kev (the baby), interrupts -inappropriate I know -: "Yes Ed. E, as in enchilada, D..."

I don't know if it was because the weekend was so emotional, but literally, the four of us laughed to the point of tears for about 5 minutes without stopping. My dad, of course, didn't see what was so funny.

The best part of the night was when we showed up, the woman who took the reservation actually put it under the name "Eric." So I guess "Ed" was more complicated than we thought.

Seriously?!