Monday, June 4, 2007

wedding singer

I was in Poughkeepsie, New York for my sister's graduation a couple weeks ago. After the ceremony, we (my father, my brother, his girlfriend, and my sister, Rachel) went to The Olive Garden for dinner. While we were looking over the menu, my father nudged me.

"Don't you want to ask Rachel something?", he said.

"Oh, yeah," I replied. "Do you want to sing at my wedding, Rach?"

Now, my sister has been performing most of her life. She's been involved with theater productions and choral groups since elementary school. So, I was certain that she'd at least agree, if not jump at the opportunity, to participate in the ceremony.

"Can I get back to you?", she asked.


We ordered our food, and moved on to other topics of conversation, but eventually came back around to the wedding. I mentioned that Jodi and I are going to be programming our own music for the reception with an iPod, instead of hiring a DJ.

"Oh", my sister said. "Does that mean I don't have to sing?"

"What?" I said.

"Does that mean I don't have to sing at the wedding?"

And then it clicked. "You thought I was asking you to be our wedding singer?"

She ate another breadstick. I took that as a yes.

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