Mea Cupla

So, before I go any further with this blog, I need to take a minute to clarify something from an earlier post. A while back, I gave you a little report on the happenings of our destination wedding. In that post, I told you about how my now husband had been in charge of the music for the reception and how he had left it until the very last minute (two days before we left). I also relayed how our dear friends jumped in and emceed the event for us with next to notice.

But, blogging is a tricky thing. Sometimes, words don’t necessarily come across the way you intended. There’s no way to code a piece of text for inflection. I had thought that by placing the blame on my hubs, y’all would understand that if my dear friends doing the emceeing mixed up my stepmother’s name, the fault didn’t lie with them. It seems, though, that I was mistaken.

On new year’s eve, said friends cornered me in the kitchen and told me they were kinda bummed that I stuck it to them like that on the interwebs. Of course, I explained, this was not my intention. Sometimes, I guess I need an editor myself. Nonetheless, I promised them a public apology and explanation to my readers.

Mea cupla, dear friends!! You did an amazing job narrating your way through our reception with a wedding party list that the hubs passed on to you during the freakin’ cocktail hour! As a matter of fact, your performance therein is one of the details that made our wedding memorable. Countless guests have since approached and told us how entertaining you were and what a lovely addition it was to the day. I couldn’t agree more.

Hopefully, in the future, I’ll refrain from inserting my foot into my mouth, but in all honesty, if history has taught me anything it’s that it’s bloody likely to happen again.

SPF