Assumptions

Tonight, two of BJ's closest friends, Josh and Jeff, will be arriving at our house to pick BJ up. Early tomorrow, they will all leave for Michigan where they will be groomsment in Dave's wedding.

Josh, Jeff, and Dave were groomsmen in our wedding, and having not seen his closest friends in entirely too long, BJ is really looking forward to this road trip. It is sure to be full of adventure, laughter, and lots of beef jerky.

Although I am really excited for BJ, and I hope he has a wonderful week, I have learned to not casually mention it to people. Although people who know BJ don't think twice about it, if I tell anyone who doesn't know BJ that my husband is about to leave on a road trip with a bunch of buddies to go be groomsmen in a wedding, images of The Hangover immediately come to their mind, and suddenly I become the poor neglected wife left in Kentucky while my husband heads off to what is sure to be one giant, riotous bachelor party full of alcohol and strippers. It doesn't matter what I say, the expectation is that any wedding must be precluded with this bazaar tradition.

When did this become part of the process of two people committing their lives to one another? When did women's self-esteem become so low that they think they have to tolerate their fiance getting lap dances before he can fully commit to marriage?

For the record, BJ's bachelor party (which included these same guys who were his groomsmen) consisted of board games in Josh and Allie's apartment. And I happen to trust that BJ and his friends will not be participating in any antics this weekend that involve scantily clad women. How do I know this? Well, I don't know all the wives well, but I do know that Allie and I are scary, so that helps. But mainly, I know that they are good men, and that is what really matters.

On a side note, BJ is going to be gone for 5 days! If you don't remember how well I did with his absense the last time he left for five day, here is a reminder. I generally become a basket case. And this year I have obscene amounts of pregnancy hormones coursing through me that make me even crazier than my Pierce genes had already made me. This is officially dangerous.