The Bridal Shower

as published at The Orange County Register on August 10, 2013:

I’m scanning the aisles of Target with four pages of printed wish list, matching bar code to object. According to her registry, my future sister-in-law’s kitchen will contain a sea of silver and white. I love silver and white, and as I survey the lovely silver and white chafing dishes, napkin holders, and salt and pepper shakers my new sister-in-law has registered for, I wonder if my kitchen will ever have a shot at being so shiny and pretty.

She also wants a salad spinner. Where were those when I got married? I don’t recall ever registering for one, but from the blurb on the box, it looks like a salad spinner is just what I need-- considering all that lettuce throttling I’ve been doing since 1998.

I also never got a popcorn popper, quesadilla maker, or fabric steamer, but it appears my new sister-in-law will. I’m not sure where I’d stow these things, but I just know they’d make my life wonderful.

I picture my soon-to-be sister-in-law’s world. I can see her in her silver and white Williams and Sonoma-esque kitchen where she’ll spend a quiet afternoon popping buttery popcorn and lifting the lid of her quesadilla maker to release cheesy golden brown discs, all whilst a crisp head of romaine spins itself dry. She’ll probably be wearing a freshly steamed apron and stilettos and listening to Michael Buble, and while I know my hungry hulk of a brother would never request a dinner of popcorn, quesadillas, and dry-spun lettuce, he’ll tell my sister-in-law it’s all wonderful because everything’s wonderful when you’re a newlywed.

Right there in aisle 37b of Target, I break down: I want to get married!

The problem is, I am. For 15 years last Thursday. And despite all our attempts to plan something special, in the rush and run around that has become our day-to-day, all I got for my 15^th anniversary was a leaky dishwasher, a jammed shower door, and a broken kitchen faucet that squirts you in the chest when you attempt to pull the sprayer from its dock. Which brings us to the age-old question:

Why don’t you get a bridal shower after you’ve figured out what you actually need to be a bride?

The romantic part of me really wants to buy my brother’s soon-to-be a popcorn popper, or a salad spinner, or a fabric steamer to make all those extra moments of their lives special.

But the seasoned wife in me ends up purchasing them a stainless steel spatula and a sturdy mixing bowl, because over the years, I have learned a few things. A good spatula can flip a quesadilla and dislodge a jammed shower door, and a mixing bowl will be there for you during any kind of leak. And when marriage brings you those moments that aren’t so shiny and pretty, it’s the tools you actually use rather than those you don’t that make all the difference.