Bride Point of View

Wendy was preparing for her wedding in the dressing room. “Dress? Check. Veil? Check. Bouquet? Check.” In reality, she didn’t really care about all that crap. She was only thinking about the the ring. The funny thing was, she hadn’t actually seen it yet. Her husband had made a point to make sure that she wouldn’t see it until today. “Wait a sec, how the hell did he propose to me?! Never mind that… Just a little bit more lip stick annnd, Voila! All done.”
“Wendy! You ready yet? The ceremonies going to begin any minute now. It would be a shame to have a wedding without the bride.” It was her sister, A.K.A, Miss Maid-of-Honor.
“Just a second, Sarah! I’m almost finished.” Wendy was starting to shiver and shake. Not because she was nervous about getting married, but because she was excited about finally getting to see her “special” ring that her husband, Rob, had tried so hard to hide from her. She stepped out from her dressing room. “Show time. Soon I get to see my precious.” She giggled like a school girl at the thought of her beautiful ring. She rushed to the start of the beautiful carpet to meet her father.
“Hey Wend-” Her father started to greet her.
“Shush up, turn around and move your feet! It’s time for me to get my ring.” She rushed her father up the carpet, completely out of sync with the music. She quickly approached her future husband. She asked immediately, “Where is my ring?”
“Uh, honey, we haven’t even started yet.” Replied Rob, a smile on his face.
“Oh yeah, I know, but still… Where is it?” Rob pointed to a little boy, holding a little pillow with a finely decorated box on top, made just for a ring. His steps were a little wobbly. Wendy thought to herself, “That little snot nosed punk is going to trip and fall, and then my ring will be ruined, and then this wedding will be ruined, and then I won’t get married, and then I’ll end up like Aunt Beatrice; old, senile and living with 32 cats. Worst of all, my RING will be RUINED!” Wendy stood with anticipation as she watched the toddler stumble and swagger with her ring in his possession. Then finally, he fell. “My God!” Gasped Wendy, as she rushed down to the little boy. She picked up her ring, brushed it off gently, and then she placed it back on the pillow. She forced the boy up, patted him down violently and thrust the pillow back into his arms. “If that ring has a single scratch on it, I’m sending you to the zoo to be wolf meat! Do you understand?”
A frightened reply, “Yes, mommy.” Finally, with the boy and the ring, the bride yet again joined her husband at the altar. All that set aside, the priest began to speak, “We have come here-”
“You know what? Shut up. I’m here. He’s here. I do and he does. Anyway, who has the ring?”
“I do…” The little boy handed the ring to his father who in turned opened the box and slid the ring on his wife’s finger.
“Oh my god, this is beautiful!” She inspected the ring and on the inside there was an engraving.
To my special someone.