You could say my husband Ted, at times, is a Christian fatalist. Oh, not the type who eventually goes agnostic, as one writer asserts can happen, but the happy sort. The kind who insists that his Type-A prone bride anticipate something will inevitably go wrong at their wedding ... and does it all with a smile and a no-big-deal shrug.
If you think I'm joking, let's rewind a little over 11 years and pretend you're a fly on the wall. Here's what you would have heard.
Ted: "You know something's bound to go wrong at our wedding, right?"
Me: "Yeah? Like what?"
Ted: "Oh, I don't know. Like maybe the bakery will forget to make our cake."
Me: "I doubt that. Do you think that ever really happens?"
Turns out it does.
You see there we were, just a week or so later, with two hours and counting until our nuptials.
Live music? Check.
Cake? Um ... anyone know where the cake is?
[Read the rest of the article at Start Marriage Right.]