Bouquet #1: April 28, 2006. This bouquet was caught at my sister Rachel's wedding reception. I specifically remember being in the kitchen at the church (making myself another chicken sandwich) when they announced that the bouquet was about to be tossed. Not particularly wanting to catch said bouquet, I stayed where I was until Rachel (not my mother or any of my other sisters, mind you, but the actual bride herself) informed me that I was to come NOW to try and catch the bouquet. Abandoning my chicken sandwich, I grudgingly obliged.
Showtime. I was situated in the far back left-hand corner of the formation of single ladies who had congregated in hopes of catching the bouquet. The excitement may have been killing some of them; I wouldn't know, because I was rather bored with the situation and wished I was back in the kitchen with my chicken sandwich. (You can tell what my priorities were back at the time.) The bouquet, once tossed, flew into a high arc to the left, well out of the way of anyone's reach... except, of course, for mine. I remember thinking to myself as I made a dive for the bouquet, "I don't want it to land on the floor because then the beautiful flowers will be smashed all over the place." I smoothly snagged the bouquet out of the air before it could make contact with the floor. It felt pretty spectacular, if I do say so myself; like some sort of Quidditch Seeker catch. (Yes, I'm a nerd.)
Then reality hit me. I had caught the bouquet. The bouquet that symbolized "next in line for marriage." Uh-oh. I turned guiltily towards my mother who, upon hearing the news of my triumphant save of the bouquet from certain destruction, stomped her foot on the ground and let out an anguished cry of "NO!!!" My dear mother, bless her heart, had just helped plan two weddings (my brother's and now my sister's) within three months, and I don't blame her for having had it with weddings for a while. After calmly reassuring her that I was only sixteen and that I most emphatically WOULD NOT be getting married any time soon, she calmed down and that was the end of that.
Or so I thought.
Bouquet #2: March 19, 2011. Five years had passed since the unexpected and rather unwelcome catching of my sister's bouquet, and I found myself, now a marriageable age, at another wedding reception, this time for my dear friend Katherine (of The Harmony Sisters). I had helped plan this wedding reception, and I was feeling pretty good about things; the wedding cake (which I had helped decorate) looked immaculate, the flowers (which I had helped order) were superb, the food (which I was in charge of serving that evening) was delicious, and I was wearing a new Flirty Apron (which matched the bride's wedding colors) to seal the deal. Yes, I was feeling pretty good.
Then the bouquet toss was announced. I had every intention of standing quietly on the sidelines during the event and letting other people have a chance at the glory. But, much to my consternation, my friend Sydney (also of The Harmony Sisters), was somehow able to pressure me into going with her to catch the bouquet. So I found myself, once again, waiting for a bouquet that I didn't particularly want to catch.
As I was standing there waiting for the event to begin, I noticed the similarities between this situation and the last time I had caught a bouquet. I was again standing in the back left-hand corner (I figured the back was the safest because there were half a dozen eager, taller women in front of me who would most likely deflect any bouquets coming in my direction), and my inclination to catch the bouquet was strikingly similar to what it had been the last time.
So I shouldn't have been surprised, really, when the bouquet went flying in a high arc to the left and I found myself running to catch it before it hit the floor. And then it was in my hands (very smoothly, I might add) and everyone was cheering. Well, everyone except for Sydney, who was jokingly saying, "Aw! I wanted to catch the bouquet, MaryAnne!" Katherine, and all my other friends who were there, were eyeing me significantly as if to say, "Well, well, well! You know what this means... now it's YOUR turn to get married." "Good grief!" I thought to myself as my friends were both subtly and blatantly giving me hints. "In order to get married I'd need to find a man first, and goodness knows THAT isn't going to happen anytime soon."
Famous last words, folks. This leads to....
Bouquet #3: July 8, 2011. This bouquet requires a little bit of back story:
Shortly before Katherine's wedding (where the infamous Bouquet #2 was caught), I got a new job as a receptionist for the Information and Communication Services department of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (located in Riverton, UT.) Let me tell ya... LOTS of men roaming around. But since most of them were older men and already married (and the rest of them fell under the category of "computer guys..." need I say more?), I wasn't really looking too hard for any particular someone.
One day, however, about two weeks before Katherine's wedding, a very pleasant young man named Taylor (last name specifically avoided to protect the innocent) introduced himself to me, and I recognized in him a kindred spirit (he'd also attended LDS Business College), so I knew we'd at least be friends. :)
Well, let me just say that I think Bouquet #2 possessed magical qualities because in the week following Katherine's wedding, I was asked out on a date by said pleasant young man, Taylor. (I know some of you are thinking, "What does this have to do with Bouquet #3???" Hang in there, folks. I'm getting there...) And then after the first date, I was asked on another. And another. And then another. :) I think you all know where this is going, so I'll just cut to the chase and say that Taylor and I decided that we liked each other enough to form a more permanent relationship. (That completely sounds like we got married or something, but that's not the case. As it stands, we are still only dating.)
ANYWAY...... Because Taylor and I were attached to each other, I had the pleasure of attending his cousin's wedding reception with him (I TOLD you I'd get there). Now, I didn't know anyone at the reception (except for Taylor, his parents and his two sisters), so I wasn't planning on participating in any of the activities. I was content to sit back and
My first inclination was to say, "Nah, you ladies go on; I'll watch you from here," but it felt nice to be included and I was in rather a compliant mood that evening, so I cheerfully agreed to join them. (If left to my own devices, I probably would have stayed where I was, but I found that I was rather enjoying myself, so it's not like I was being dragged out to my death or anything.)
In the lineup of single ladies (and yes, they WERE playing Beyoncé's "Single Ladies" during this event), I was on the front row in between Taylor's two sisters. The Younger Sister was to my immediate right, and the Older Sister was to my left, with a young girl (maybe ten years old) right in between us. There was also a toddler-aged girl roaming around in front of me, so I was hesitant to do any running and diving for the bouquet.
Blastoff time, and the bouquet left the bride's hands and literally flew right at me. There was no running or diving for this bouquet. All I can say is that it jumped into my hands and took me very much by surprise. You know, come to think of it, if the young girl next to me hadn't run in front of me to reach up and catch it, THEN I may have had to dive for it (and it's also highly possible that the Younger Sister might have caught it in that instance), but as it was, it bounced off the young girl's hands and right into mine.
At first, I tried to hand off the bouquet to the young girl (she'd touched it first, after all, so it should be hers, I reasoned), but she ran away before I had a chance to ask her if she wanted it. So I was stuck with the bouquet. The bouquet that symbolized.... well, we've already been over that. Did my face turn red as people (namely: Taylor's family, who knew the stories of my previous run-ins with wedding bouquets) started cheering? (And laughing, in the case of Taylor's family.) Yes. Was I even more embarrassed when the wedding photographer beckoned me over to get a picture with the bride, who I didn't know from Adam? (Or would that be Eve in my case?) Of course. But did I enjoy myself immensely in the process? Absolutely. :)
Watch out, ladies. I got skills.
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