I probably didn’t phonetically spell that title out correctly. It’s supposed to be the priest from The Princess Bride movie. You see, Nora and I went to that wedding up in Minnesota, do know.
As weddings go (and I’ve been to six of them now; two have been my own), it was fine. Everyone was happy to be there; the Bride and Groom were magnificent, and there was no dancing. What more can a middle-class, middle-aged white guy ask for?
Nora and I are in the habit of reminding each other that we are each other’s favorite. And not just favorite person. I can only speak for myself, but Nora is my favorite out of all the things. Pick anything and put it up against Nora, I will easily say I prefer Nora. I’m not sure I am using the words right here. In my head, this is profound, but on the screen, it looks weakly expressed.
It took me a while to come to terms with this state of our relationship. I get hung up on defining words sometimes, and I also have a bad habit of trying to compare apples to oranges. For many years, I struggled with placing Nora and my girls into some sort of pecking order. The everything of Nora vs the daddy-ness with the girls. It’s not fair to try to make the comparison, right?
Even as I sit here trying to piece this post together, I feel I need to try to justify the use of the word favorite. Or try to go into further detail so it doesn’t sound like I’m a bad dad or husband. (Like right there, why did dad come first?)
The reason why this has come up is that, in the vows at the wedding, they would remind each other daily that each is their favorite person. I got a little choked up by that while holding my favorite’s hand.
What are some of your favorites?