Pragmatic

I’m the Creative Child in my family of five kids.  Since I can remember, that’s how my mom and sibs have referred to me, how they’ve excused my differences from them.  I think they’re all creative, they just fear that calling themselves that means they’re weirdos like me. ‘Tevs.  I live in my little world of snow fairies and magic and books and don’t much mind who joins me here.  All (ok, most) are welcome. 

I do have a pragmatic side, though.  A Yankee side.  A sh*t or get off the pot side.  And when my older sister said that Neal and I should see if there is a tax benefit to getting married this year rather than next, I agreed.  Neal agreed.  We’ve both been married before.  We could be pragmatic and have a small family wedding if it meant some serious cash in our pockets. I’ve been poor; I like money in my pocket.  Since the weekend we’ve been trying to figure logistics for our possible quicky wedding.

Neal called the accountant yesterday and found out the benefit isn’t that great.  So the quicky wedding isn’t going to happen.  I admitted to Neal that I’m relieved.  I’m glad to be pragmatic, but I’m happier to know that I’ll be able to enjoy myself and take my time in planning our wedding.  Of course, it’s the marriage that is important, but last time around we both had small weddings.  Mine was in my parents’ living room followed by dinner at a lovely restaurant.  Neal’s was in his parents’ yard.  This time around, I want everyone we know there.  I want a hootinany, and that’s what I’ll have.  Just have to set a date, and I’ll go into full-on planning mode. 

Creatively, of course.