What does a large, green ceramic chip bowl, a digital grill and enough bakeware to make Martha Stewart weak in the knees have in common?

If you answered: “all things that require some creative handling on Katie’s part to fit into her kitchen cabinets,” you would be correct.

I’d also accept the answer: “things the Princess Bride Katie received at her wedding shower this weekend.”

(And I don’t accept any nicknames other than Princess Bride.  Although, on second thought, Sorceress Of All Things Great And Beautiful would do.  Let’s try to make that stick, shall we?  SOATGAB for short, if needed for brevity purposes, although I think it loses its effect.)

My lovely aunts Nancy and Jenny threw me the shower and my mom flew in to be there as well.  The big surprise of the weekend was having my Aunt Carol open the door when I rang the bell.  Many of you might remember that my Aunt Carol will be officiating the wedding.  And did I fail to mention she lives in Florida?  It was a truly exciting surprise that she flew up to Chicago for the event.  And to add to the craziness, my other aunt showed up by surprise, as well.  She was on vacation in London and took a pit stop through Chicago to join in the celebration.

If you’re jealous of my family right about now, I’m here to tell you that you should be.  And that’s it’s perfectly natural.  We’re pretty spectacular, is all.

I left with 2 carloads full of stuff and came home to a fiancee who was pretty psyched about the loot.  Not psyched enough to help me unpack it all, though.  But psyched none the less. 

I’d tell you more about the weekend, but my memory took a wrong turn at White Wine Alley and is stuck in the abyss somewhere, eating grapes and cheese and generally wandering around in a fairly happy state of mind.  In fact, my memory probably has its arm around some other memory’s neck and they’re telling each other how much they “love each other, maaan.” 

I do remember a lot of laughing, though.  And a lot of being thankful for this great family of mine.

Thanks everybody…for everything.  You all know who you are.

PostNote:  I reread this after I published it and realized I never even thanked my B-Maids for all their help.  So instead of SOATGAB, you have my permission to call me “jerkhead.”  I have the best maids ever!  A 3 gallon cookie jar filled with Nerds and Junior Mints proves this point I believe.