The blue thing from when we stepped on a glass at our wedding. And if that title doesn’t suck a reader in, I don’t know what will.

Yesterday, I included a picture from my wedding day, which was 50,00 years ago, before everyone had cell phones and felt the need to constantly text each other and Skype and Hulu and whatever else you all do out there with your modern conveniences such as getting water out your refrigerator doors. In the comments from yesterday, someone asked if Marvin and I stepped on a glass at our wedding.

I am always stunned when you all remember details from my life, which is stupid because I have been blogging daily for three years now, and why wouldn’t you remember a thing like Marvin is Jewish. You know what I need to put up one day? Marvin’s bar mitzvah pictures from 1979. Oh, you haven’t lived. I am just saying, get several beach towels, because you will pee your own chair. Why you would want to pee on your beach towels is beyond me. It was the first thing that popped into my head.

At any rate, we DID step on a glass, which is a Jewish tradition, and I do not mean that Jewish people go around cutting their feet all day, but rather at the end of a wedding, you step on a glass that is under a napkin or something, and I imagine it is for good luck, but right up there with the part where I was supposed to have something blue, I have really no real idea why.

What we did was, we had our glass in a bag, and someone took all the dangerous shards of glass and had those made into a little sculpture-y thing. I can no longer recall if Marvin’s mother did this or one of my mother’s Jewish friends, and now I am GONNA HEAR IT, because I should certainly remember who did what 12 years ago at a wedding of 250 people.

Anyway, I offered to take yet another of my bad photographs (hi, dad!) of said sculpture-y thing for this blog and in the comments people said oh yes, please do, and they also said “I heart Journey,” and also “David Byrne does not like Applebee’s” I know I tell you to read the comments and you refuse to listen but you don’t know what you’re missing.

So I got the brilliant idea to pose everybody who lives here with the stepped-on-the-glass thing from our wedding, and you know what everybody here was in the mood for? Me. And my camera. And my mad photography skillz. Is what they were.

Yubotherhen

Why you bother Hen? Hen needs his shrimpy sleep. Hen chair need to be not centered in photo. Hi, photographer grandpa. Why you allergic to me, grandpa? Why your throat close up? Why your daughter not inherit your skillz?

Anyway, there it is. I guess the glass must have been blue. I never looked at it. I was busy getting married and greeting guests and sticking bottles of Bud Light down the front of my $2,000 dress. If the glass was blue why did I have to kill myself getting something blue for my wedding?

Zzzzztalu

Shhhh. Lu tongue out. Lu dream she lick things. Why you put blue blob in front of Lu? This psychological test? Lu fine. Lu not phobia of microwave. It just small fear. That straightjacket? That butterfly net? LU FINE.

Winnie

Win sleep on unmade bed. Win clean self because mom clean nothing else.

Franhateallyoustandfor

fran hate you. fran never move till you put offensive blob down. now fran get up. time for revolution. time to act be now. been planning.

Francontemplates

maybe time to act is tomorrow. fran tired. hate so tiring.

Me
Yes, I did pick this up with my feet. I cannot wait till Marvin sees this, because you know how he enjoys feet.

Marvnflo

Heeeee. Then look what I did. I had him hold it, not knowing it was held by my feets just seconds earlier. Oh, the hilarity. Also too, Marvin is holding Flo. Not Aunt Flo. Because that would be gross.

Okay, so now you have seen enough of the sculpture-y thing from when Marvin stepped on the glass at our wedding 4,000 years ago. I am certain you are glad you asked.

27 thoughts on “The blue thing from when we stepped on a glass at our wedding. And if that title doesn’t suck a reader in, I don’t know what will.

  1. We ran OVER a turtle on the way to MY wedding…true story.
    Glad I don’t have a sculpture of THAT…

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  2. I’m dying at Frannie’s face in that first picture. OH, my GOD the hatred!! Love your babies. Even Fran’s hateful little self!
    I am similarly married to a Jewish man (seriously, ladies? If you are unhitched, go find yourself a Jewish man to marry. They are THE best husbands. Not even joking, here!) and we also did the glass-breaking at the end of our ceremony. It has a couple of meanings – just google it – it’s really nice.
    Sorry, Hulk. You are a shixa just like Elaine. A turtle-killing shixa.

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  3. LOVE this post and the input from all the animals in the house. Cracked me up. Told husband to hold off on starting the DVD we’re gonna watch so I could finish reading and snickering. See what happens? I put off the hubby for June. What can I say – she’s more amusing.

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  4. My husband being Jewish, he also stepped on a glass at our wedding because his family enjoys the tradition. We included a little “what this means” in the program for my half of the guests – it is a nice tradition. I found several different meanings when I looked it up.
    His mom bought us the glass to break, the shards of which were supposed to be placed in a mezuzah for the doorway of our home. Although I have seen very beautiful ones, this particular mezuzah is the largest, tackiest thing I’ve ever seen, so the whole kit and caboodle is still in our attic in the “wedding memorabilia” box. I hope this is not offensive to BBP’s Jewish reader population! He is not an observant Jew, and I’m not Jewish at all, so to us it makes sense not to hang it. She has never asked about it, and I hope she never will. I definitely would have taken a sculpture like June’s if my MIL had offered one!

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  5. It might be inappropriate to comment on the funny here, since we just lost Uncle Jim, but I just had to say thanks for mentioning my comment in your blog, Juney and I comment on a few blogs, here and there, but yours, yours is the only one that feels like a little blog family. And if you let us, June, your little blog family will be glad to carry you through this time of grief with our words. That’s it. So sorry for your loss.

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  6. That barkcloth chair that Hen Hen is sitting on – I WANT it. I love me the pink and green barkcloth. Also love those blue toes. I think I’m going to have top have a pedi so I can get some green and pink toes.

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  7. Wait. I DO NOT know the story of Marvin and feet and I have read every sentence you have ever written. How is this possible?
    Also I adore Fran. He is me, in cat form. Overweight and annoyed.

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  8. Wait. I DO NOT know the story of Marvin and feet and I have read every sentence you have ever written. How is this possible?
    Also I adore Fran. He is me, in cat form. Overweight and annoyed.

    Like

  9. Wait. I DO NOT know the story of Marvin and feet and I have read every sentence you have ever written. How is this possible?
    Also I adore Fran. He is me, in cat form. Overweight and annoyed.

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  10. I love the cat’s expression – maybe Fran would like a beret?
    About the photo of your feet/blue blob: have you considered enlarging it and hang it over your bed? …since your husband likes feet lol.

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  11. I do not know who Flo is (except of course how she’s a turtle), and I too like to think I have read every sentence ever, at least for a couple of years. And I LOVE turtles and I HAVE a turtle in a tank! His name is Sheldon. You’re an animal, Sheldon.

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  12. Stranded on the road between existential angst and terminal over-sharpening (cause a little Photoshop is good; a lot is uglee), that photo of Fran with the blue blob is arguably your best work ever.

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  13. Love the blue toes.
    And I have a peeing-on-a-beach-towel story for you.
    I went to gymnastics camp in the summertime up in the Poconos (shout out to Woodward!). And Woodward had skunks. And my mom came up to be a Cabin Mom to save us some money and my sister had to come with my mom and I because there was no one else to take her with her special diet needs at the time. And she (my sister) was probably all of 3 years old.
    Scene: A moonlit night at Woodward. A small child in need of the bathroom. A skunk on the path between the cabin and the bathroom.
    Said skunk will not leave the path, small child starts crying, mom saves the day by making crying child pee on beach towels.
    Good times at Woodward. Thanks for reminding me.

    Like

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