I'm really not such a cynic, but sometimes the American wedding industry sends me over the edge.

The other day when my mom and I were flying home from Ashland (she connected through Denver, so we  were together for the first leg of her trip), a young couple was sitting across the aisle from us.  Young as in, no way were they more than 19 or 20.  At one point I noticed that she had a very elaborate french manicure on her long, squared off acrylics, complete with a splash of gold decorating the tips.

Huh, must have had them done for some big occasion, I thought.

Then I noticed her feet.  Her toes were done up in the same shade of gold to match her nails, with the paint applied to resemble lace.  She was wearing white flip-flops with blue satin over the straps and little double rings attached to the toe thingy in the middle.  Kind of like these, but without such a big bow and with little rings instead of hearts:

Really?  Oy.  Somebody's been spending too much time trolling theknot.com.

Plus I couldn't get over how young she looked.  Later, I heard her telling someone that she still had 3 years of college left.  Jesus.

But the kicker came when we landed and everyone was standing up to deplane -- I noticed that she and her husband were wearing matching shirts that said "Richard and Monique, Just Married!"

"Aw, look at that," my mom said.  "They just got married."

I rolled my eyes.  "That poor fucker," I said, referring to the husband.

"Why?"

"Usually it takes a few years.  But that guy clearly has already lost all access to his balls.  They are now sitting in a frosted glass vase on a shelf, and maybe once a year he'll be allowed to take the vase off the shelf and gaze at at his balls with fond longing."

Mom laughed.  "Oh, Wendy!  You're terrible."

But deep down, I think she knew I was right.