Mother of the Groom

The scene was not unlike many other wedding receptions across the country. Nervous groom slips the garter off of blushing bride to toss to his single friends. The guys elbow one another, nudging each other to the front of the pack, but their hands never leave their pockets. “Oh Yeah” is playing in the background.

Enter the seven-year-old kid (mine) eager to show off his recently-acquired skills from six weeks of coach-pitch baseball by diving to the parquet dance floor, risking bloody nose and broken glasses to catch a lacy piece of elastic, while the groom’s single friends take a collective three steps back, making said seven-year-old the next man present to take a wife.

And I have been in the market for a Mother-of-the-Groom dress ever since. Fortunately, I have plenty of time to botox the wrinkles, tone the triceps, and find a subdued yet milfy beige number well before his big day.

In the meantime, I am working hard on molding Luke into the perfect catch.

Starting in the bedroom. I’ve got to find a way to get my Mama’s Boy to sleep in his own bed. I doubt his future wife will appreciate waking up alone every morning because Luke drove over to our house in the middle of the night to sleep next to me. He has no clue what he could possibly get from his wife that he can’t get with his mom right next to him throughout the night, and I’m not ready to go into great detail with him. But soon enough, I’m sure, he will replace the picture of me that currently sits on his nightstand with one of Miley Cyrus (but not that tacky one with her dad), and the last thing Luke will want is to wake up next to his mother. I hope.

Dinner, however, should be a piece of cake. Literally. He would also settle for pizza, hot dogs, or cheeseburgers and will eat any vegetable that rhymes with “Flinch Flies.” His beautiful wife can also look forward to an occasional night of fine dining at IHOP for the Funny Face Pancake Combo and a chocolate milk.

There are a few items my future daughter-in-law may need to be prepared to negotiate, though, before heading to Macy’s to register. Whatever they decide as a couple is fine with me, but she should know I’ve told him that as soon as he has his own house he is welcome to adopt an entire litter of Komodo dragons, grow his hair as long as Slash’s, and buy as many tarantulas, light sabers, and Mountain Dew vending machines as he can afford.

And speaking of what he can afford, Luke does not yet have a job. Or a college degree. And he’s still 10 years away from his high school diploma. But no worries. He has a bright future ahead of him --- nearly as bright as the glittery blue plastic ring he found in the Target parking lot a couple years ago and, I assume, can only be saving to give to the lucky lady with whom he intends to spend the rest of his life. He is a forward-thinking boy. Even at his young age, Luke has already ruled out careers as Spiderman (still can’t shoot out a web), Superman (tried leaping a tall building once, luckily he was wearing a helmet), and Jedi Knight (the commute was too far, far away), and has decided on a career in aviation. All he needs now is Lasik and the keys to a 747.

So there’s plenty of work left to do, but I have faith Luke’s future wife will be more than pleased with the end result. In fact, she will be positively giddy with excitement to have such a handsome, kind-hearted and capable young man for her husband.

Her mother-in-law, on the other hand, is a whole different story…