Rarely do I enjoy sorting the mail.  Two piles: bills or crap to throw away.  Was delighted to see some Target coupons, this time from Club Wedd.  A free gift card for signing up a registry, read the stipulations and decided why not – who am I to throw away something free?

After setting it up and getting my gun, I was off.  Time to pull out my list – I mean, I had to look the part and needed to have at least ten items!  Sixty items later I was cooking.

I’d forgotten the thrill of the gun, clearly I’d missed out by only baby registering at one place – a mistake I shan’t make again should I ever say “I do” for real.

I felt exhilaration as I scanned and pinged, editing as I went – “no, maybe the rubbed bronze…” AS IF IT MATTERED.  Considering the difficulty of combining households and hoping my husband to be would already have nicer stuff than me, making filling the holes that much easier.  Understanding briefly the nutty bride syndrome picking crap I’d never actually buy for myself or anyone else. Case in point: the ice cream maker.

The fun had to end.  While finishing up the last section, a worker offering to help me gave hearty congrats on my big day and proudly told me about her thirty-five year union – a rarity today indeed, Carol. 

Feel the shame of a farce, I took back my gun.  Then promptly collected my gift card.