If the Future Mr Snork and I decided, spur of the moment, to keep our initial (but unmaterializable for many reasons, like, say, our lack of planning) date of 21.v.10, and, say, ran to the court house on our lunch hour to get a license, and sweet talked our hairdresser, whom we once overheard saying was an officiant, because he's preparing to conduct the marriage ceremony for his best friend in July, into marrying us, despite the fact that he already had friday night plans that did not include our lack of planning, and ran to the beach after work on Friday night, AND if we could also sweet talk a Giraffy into running down to same beach, after work, to take pictures, it would look something like this:
But, you say, where might you get such pretty flowers, running after work to the beach (stopping by to pick up mini-giraffys, since there was no way adult giraffy could make it to two places at once)?
A thoughtful Giraffy might show up with some. Pink ribbon, and sweet pea smell. She must have remembered me sniffing every sweet pea bunch at the Farmers Market on Saturdays and falling all over them.
If any such thing happened. Which, of course, is craziness, because we are about to send out invitations for a September wedding. *shifty eyes*.