They Call Me Mrs. Beaver

When I met Kevin, he was living in a house with approximately 87 other guys. Or maybe it was only 11 guys who partied as if they were 87 strong.

This past Saturday, one of those guys got married. And the whole crew was in attendance.

The ceremony and the bride were beautiful, as they should be.

But the wedding ceremony was at 11:00 AM, and the reception wasn't until 5:00 PM. Which gave everyone quite a bit of time between to get rowdy.

I was impressed, though, that everyone held it together until the end. For the most part.

I ended up with 7 (and that is no exaggeration!) blisters from my heels while walking all over downtown Columbus going from bar to bar after the ceremony. (Big thanks to my Dad for bringing my flip flops to the reception! And for driving me back to get our car.)

We temporarily lost Kevin's car keys when there was a suit jacket mix up. (Thanks again for driving me back to get our car, Dad.)

And I got called Mrs. Beaver all night long.

You see, this crowd is big on nick names. Hardly anyone goes by their real name. For instance, there is Snake, Web, Cookie, Dino and Jenkins. So it isn't the least bit odd that Kevin would have a nick name, too. His is Beaver. It has to do with a hat, apparently.

And therefore I am Mrs. Beaver.

16th Avenue Roommates

The guy in the black vest in front of Kevin, holding the boot beer stein, was the groom. I took this picture 41 times, and this is the best one. No one would stand still! I doubt the wedding photographer fared much better with this crowd.