To Chris and Kelli’s wedding. This is the first family wedding in quite a few years and, as Mouse also reports, most of us are a little rusty at getting dressed up. Weddings being about the only place we ever go that require looking presentable.

Yeah, grok grok grok. Ya shudda seen wha’ Ol’ Baggy wore to ol’ Grandroobly’s memorial party. Raggle-dy ol’ skirt ‘n’ tank top w’ a bathin’ suit und’rneath. Of *all* things! Grok grok. Just in case she felt like sneakin’ away ‘n’ takin’ a li’l dip inta ol’ Gitchee Gumee durin’ th’ festivy-tees. Me ‘n’ Th’ Ol’ Commander were morty-fied! Grok grok grok. Ya could even see th’ top o’ th’ bathin’ suit stickin’ up from und’rneath th’ tank top. Grok grok grok.

Just a minute. (Shut up Froog! And how did you get to know so much about women’s clothing anyway? Last I looked, your personal wardrobe was limited to a babushka and some Harry Potter glasses that washed up on the beach.) Never mind him.

I didn’t even wear shoes to my own wedding. Why the heck would anybody want to wear shoes on the beach fer Kee-reist? The Commander was not especially happy about that. “Are you *really* going to go barefoot?” “Are you *sure* you don’t want to wear some shoes?” After all those years of living amongst the Fin Family Moominbeach folk, something from the dark ages when she was a city girl working at the downtown Hudson’s percolated up to the surface and brought her sense of propriety right to the forefront. “I have raised a total hooligan!” she thought in horror. When I finally got down to the beach, the first thing I noticed was that Grandroobly was also barefoot. Obviously The Commander did not win that particular battle!

It’s okay, Mom. I won’t wear my beat up old, ratty old Tevas today. I actually do have an appropriate pair of shoes. They make me shuffle when I walk but I can endure that for a few hours. And I won’t wear a bathing suit either. I might carry a YAG bag, y’all will just have to deal. But I won’t be the belle of the ball and that’s not my job anyway. It’s Kelli’s day and I hope she has a good one! She certainly won’t be upstaged by me. GrokgrokgorkFRGOK!

P.S. I am NOT, repeat, NOT, taking any propane tanks home from this wedding. So don’t anyone even THINK about trying to foist one o’ those off on me!!! Got it?

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