Anyway, things were going swimmingly well, that is, until into my brain popped the thought, 'He looks like a chipmunk'.
Sigh. Just when I thought I could pull off the performance that is Being An Adult.
And then what happened, Kate? I hear you ask.
Did my brain survey the situation and bury that thought, like most normal brains would do,taking pity on their owner, considering the circumstances ?
Hell no.
My brain then proceeded to torture me.
(It didn't help that my colleague had already met this man before, said nice things about him and I immediately started to refer to him as her 'future husband').
My name Kate, I am immature.
Anyway, for the rest of the meeting I tried to stifle a smile while my brain was imagining their wedding, 'And I would like to present to you Insertnameofcolleague and Chip Munk'.
Yup, she was a rugged meeting. Do you know how hard it is to desperately look for other people's jokes to blame your unaccounted mirth on, so as not to appear like a complete loon?
Hard. So pleased I didn't hanker to be an undertaker.
