Dinner time rolled around and I decided that I want to make something a little British, but not my standard fish and chips. I pulled up a friend's blog for her coronation chicken recipe, realized I had absolutely no mango chutney in the house, grabbed three kids, and bolted to the store. (I may add that I realized while scouring the store for mango chutney: that I probably need to start shopping elsewhere since my global taste buds are not being met at the neighborhood supermarket...the chutney had high fructose corn syrup in it....I bought it anyway...yes I know this is ALL very hypocritical in regards to my last post...I suck sometimes.) I also didn't have Boddingtons in the house and purchased some at the local liquor store. I really hate Colorado blue laws with having to drag my kids into a liquor store and all, don't they know mommies need a beer every now and then my don't want to feel like CPS needs to be called by having to take kids into a liquor store.
The Coronation chicken was served on a pathetic American excuse for a croissant (yes I know me = hypocrite) but itself was quite good, corn syrup and all. We all sat and watched a HORRIBLE rebroadcast of the wedding provided by crappy TLC. I'm not sure who they got their feed from but they must have been last in line because the picture quality was terrible. Baby girl and I had on gowns and traded my wedding veil back and forth. We had a blast. Later on the husband and I discovered a rebroadcast on MSNBC and it was much nicer. When it ended I put all things wedding to bed.
You see a couple of weeks ago I was in the throws of crabby. I mean REALLY crabby. So much that I wanted to throw in the towel on everything. Then I had a phone conversation with a dear friend that I have known for ever. After I put down the phone I realized I don't want to throw in any towel. I remembered things about myself and feelings I had in the past and none of which had entered my frontal lobe in over a decade. I realized I have almost perfection in my life and there is absolutely no reason to be crabby whatsoever. Crabby was just me being spoiled. Throwing tantrums for no reason. This all came in to be in one big epiphany and then instantly I was happy. I have been happy ever since. It's nice. Happy Jennie makes for a WONDERFUL marriage. So much that when Mr. Man brought home British Ale I think I may have fell in love with him all over again. Because, you see, we both did the same thing. He knows that I am a wanderlust and would kill to live overseas and did what he could to help me deal with nostalgia and the ever present travel yearning that watching an event in London would cause. I did the same thing for him; bought him beer so he could handle his wife in a 15 year old prom dress wearing a wedding veil smiling like an idiot at the Royal Wedding. When the MSNBC version was almost over Mr. Man said to me "you could wear that dress, it would look great on you. You look like her too." (Her being Kate.)
I may have swooned for my own husband right then.