my friend janette reminded me of a story i shared with her about finding the
perfect wedding dress for our daughter. a frightening ice storm stole our
power six years ago, chasing us south to dallas for a few days. hans stayed
home to guard and tend to the house, but all five kids left with me.
while there, we decided to do a little wedding dress shopping for the bride
to be. she is tall, willowy, and beautiful, but no one would describe her as
buxom, a fun word to say. buxom, buxom, buxom. sorry.
she would pull back the curtain in a vision of glory, and her sisters would
exclaim, "oh, you look SO gorgeous!" (sigh) her brothers would say, "umm,
a little frumpy, don't ya think?" then the sisters would hit the brothers over
every dress she tried on was more lovely than the last, making the decision
difficult. one of the dresses was form fitting and fitted at the top with
some kind of padded form. the groom would have dissolved into foam on
sight. the sisters (this sounds like a convent) and i, "oohed and ahhed",
but the brothers . . .
well the younger, rascally brother max said, "wow, that looks awesome, but
don't you think it's false advertising?"
ps. "how beautiful you are, my darling! oh, how beautiful!" song of songs 1:15