Being an adult means pretending you know what you’re doing.

I admittedly felt like a bit of a badass after yesterday’s MacGyvering of the garage door. Is there anything Cha Cha cannot do?

No, there is not.

Evidently, my brother and his bride-to-be took notice. Today, they asked me to officiate at their upcoming nuptials.

My response? I laughed and said, “Holy crap.” But of course I agreed, because it was an honor and I think I can do a good job at this solemn task. And because I’m pretty sure they aren’t going to ask me to be flower girl, which is, of course, a disappointment.

Now, you might be asking, “Uh, Cha Cha? I didn’t know you’re an ordained minister.”

And you’d be right. I’m not. Yet. But the Internet offers many exciting options for online ordination. I don’t have to take a vow of celibacy (thank you eight-pound, six-ounce baby Jesus in your golden fleece diaper). However, I’m a bit concerned that the Google results screen for “get ordained” is all, “Did you mean get organized?”

If I have to get organized in order to marry these two, this marriage is in serious jeopardy. If the Official Online Ordination Committee shows up at my house, they will take one look at the dumping ground that is my office and I will never, ever be allowed to attend a wedding ever again, much less officiate at one.

But that probably won’t happen.

So, now I just have to figure out what sort of officiant to be. I know I want to drop as many old-school Old Testament names as possible. After all, “Nebuchadnezzar” is fun to say. But other than that?

Well, I have to ask … what the hell am I doing?

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