Both sets of parents (mine and the soon-to-be in-laws) came to our house for a Fourth of July barbeque, since our house is situated so that we've got a perfect view of the park where they set off the fireworks. It was a beautiful day - not too hot out, thankfully, since Richard's mom is extremely allergic to cats, and our house is kind of a walking time bomb for anyone with feline allergies, so she spent some time outside on our back porch. Luckily, we had the gardener mow down the waist-high weeds, so our yard just looked ugly, but not lethal (we had an incredible crop of sticker bushes coming up out there!).
To his credit, Richard did warn me that he hadn't really ever barbequed before, but I assumed that since we'd have his dad and my dad here, between the three of them, there'd be enough guys standing around poking at coals to make it work. Somewhere in the house there are grilling utensils, but I couldn't find them (probably still in one of the few boxes we've yet to unpack - sigh).
I tossed the hot dogs onto the little mini-Weber I've had since college, and then went inside to cut up melons. Suddenly, the noise and laughter outside increased sharply, and when I wandered out, I saw why. Flames were shooting from the larger grill, where Richard had just recently laid out the hamburger patties. Richard was standing there looking a bit bewildered, and both sets of parents were laughing too hard to be of much help at all. Someone finally suggested that he put the lid over the grill to try to kill the fire a bit. Only problem was that the flames from the burger grease were going so hard that when he put the lid on, it forced the flames out the *bottom* of the grill.
I'm awfully proud of him. He's now taken 'flame-broiled' to new heights. The excitement of the burger-cooking was so much that there were practically no jokes at all about what happened last year when we all got together for the fireworks, but he's going to have to come up with something even more amazing next year to top this one.
********We got out early from class Friday, so I dashed for my car. Traffic was actually not too bad for 2pm on a Friday in the Bay area, so I managed to get home with enough time to actually relax before Richard and I headed off to meet the seamstress for a fitting 'dress rehearsal'. She wanted everyone to come fully 'garbed', with swords, boots, tights, etc., just so everyone would get an understanding of just what this was going to entail. I'll admit to finding amusement in the fact that, for a fun change of pace, it's going to take the groomsmen longer to get ready than the bridesmaids. All the ladies have to do is pull the dress over their head. The guys have to lace up boots, belt on swords, tuck in pants, and there are laces at shirt collar and cuff to deal with as well. Well, I shouldn't say 'all' the ladies - my mom and I are going to require someone to help us get into our own dresses.
They all look amazing. The colors we picked work to everyone's advantage, and Richard's outfit looks incredible on him - very dashing and romantic. Nah, I'm not biased. Nope. Not me.