Why not toenail clippers, too?

I am proud to report that the Angry Baker and I spent less than $700 on our wedding, including the rings and my dress. Our rings are plain 22K gold bands purchased in the local Indian market. (They have a lovely rich color and, after all these years, a nice scratchy patina.) We catered a large party in our home, and the only thing we really splurged on were the cheeses. We had no wedding cake, but instead got an assortment of small cakes from the local Italian bakery.

We neglected to inform the friends and family invited to our nuptial celebration that we had in fact, after years of cohabiting, actually tied the knot. Hence, the only gifts that people brought were bottles of wine or six-packs of beer. We didn't have millions of thank-you notes to write for gifts we didn't want in the first place, and we didn't put our many friends still in graduate school under any obligation to spend money that they didn't have.


A good time was had by all, except the cats. They had to be shut up in the bathroom all day, after my mother-in-law caught them sampling the cheeses.

The Angry Baker and I still look back on that day with great nostalgia, and both of us can say without hesitation that it was one of the best days of our lives together. We have no regrets about how we chose to marry or celebrate our marriage. We also like to think that our friends and family remember it as one of the more joyous and honest wedding receptions they have attended.

So we were both stymied by an invitation to a cousin's wedding shower we received in the mail yesterday. Included with the shower invitation was a list of over half a dozen stores where the happy couple has registered their gift wishes. Their registry listings are endless. It must have taken them months to pick out all these items. They range from the usual, like specific dinner service pieces in specific patterns or towels in a particular color, to the bizarre and inappropriate. For example (I'm not making this up): a nose-hair trimmer.

My cousin's peculiar lack of decorum does not make us look happily forward to her celebration. Can the couple not see that asking for a nose-hair trimmer trivializes what should be one of the most important days in their lives? Or, if you want to get really pragmatic about it, how do they expect to word the thank-you note? "Dear Aunt Polly, Thank you so much for the nose-hair trimmer. Justin has always wanted a comfortable and efficient way to tame those tickly bastards, and it really does the trick. As we continue our lives together, throughout the years, we will always remember you and our special day whenever we use it."

We don't go to weddings any more. We were never very fond of the spectacle^* in the first place, and even back in our day the naked greed was often palpable. However, we had planned to go to this one. Now we're thinking we should just stay home. We have other cousins, nieces and nephews who will probably marry some day.


^*There was a brief period back in the '80s when going to weddings was a bit like watching stand-up comedy: that era when the happy couples believed that writing their own vows was ever so much more deeply meaningful than using a traditional program. One exchange of vows I witnessed had the groom praising his bride for her prowess in bed. Another had the participants (both eager graduate students at the time) describing how their union was going to make them much better teachers.^** Thankfully, the not-yet-married who were forced to endure these awkward sentiments and painfully embarrassing revelations managed to reverse this disturbing trend.

^**That marriage lasted less than 8 months. The couple who focused their vows on the bedroom instead of the classroom are still married. Hmm...