His sister was getting married.
We decided that we should go.
I hadn't met his family yet
but I heard they could put on a show.
We checked our bags at the airport,
flew overnight to get there.
Of course our luggage took a different flight
off to God-knows-where.
So we dropped a large wad of cash
at some trendy local boutique.
There I picked out a stunning outfit,
something I found unique.
Off to the wedding in a rush,
there was no way we were getting there late.
We arrived at his parents home
looking like each other's prom date.
His mother smiled uncertainly
as she ushered us inside.
Sitting at the kitchen table
in jeans and boots was the bride.
Someone neglected to tell us
this was a casual, casual affair
and while I was dressed to the nines
the bride had pigtails in her hair.
The backyard was a sea of denim
and cowboy hats and boots.
I, in my silk and hubby in his tux,
when we walked out received some hoots.
It didn't look like a wedding venue,
it looked more like a rodeo.
I could have died of embarrassment
when I realized ... we were the show.