The wedding went okay...no one puked, my dad didn't stand up and scream,"Don't do it DINGBAT!" and at the end we all gave a Nazi salute to Darrel and Wendi (I affectionately call her "Cyclops")....It was quite moving...I cried and cried and cried until I noticed my father was standing on my foot. Then I giggled a little...but I can't say why.
It looks like we're all Nazis now, except Dad...ah yes, Daddy, Filthy Rich...this was the last family picture ever taken. By the look on Darrel's face you'd think my right hand was tickling him. Well, just for the record, it wasn't. I was looking for money...
Mom is leaning dangerously to the right, smiling for no reason, Brenda is happy because her lipstick stayed on this time instead of rolling down her chin and causing people to punch her husband thinking he'd hit her, Darrel is thinking of his wedding night as any Penguin would, I look like I'm trying to do an Ed Sullivan impression, or just trying to sell a snazzy used car, and Daddy, the eternal worrier, is still concerned about JFK who has been dead for nearly 32 years and hoping the six of us don't move back into the house (this almost happened a few months later).
This is my family...we are all part of eachother, however sick that sounds. And Daddy was about to make a grand exit...
