We were married in a Methodist church by a pregnant Presbyterian minister and were prayed over by a Church of Christ minister.
How all that came about is another story.
We were as poor as church mice when we married and did not have money for a honeymoon. Our plan was to just go home to the little house we'd rented (in which we had never spent a night together) and - well, do what newlyweds usually do. But during the wedding reception, the matron of honor invited us to go with her and husband to a Valentine's Day dance at the local V.F.W. club after the reception was over. She said we could ride with them. Having nothing better to do (*wink*), The Husband and I looked at each other said, "Why not?" We took our cars back to our house, changed our clothes, and climbed in the car with our friends.
They brought us home at 6 o'clock the next morning.
We slept all day. Mostly.
Come suppertime, the phone rang. The Husband's grandmother called to say that she'd made a pot of soup and we should come eat. Why not? We hadn't eaten all day.
When we arrived, the house was full of folks - aunts, uncles, cousins, great-aunts, in-laws.... The menfolk were all in the living room, having already eaten. The ladies were gathered around the dining room table, lingering over their dessert. The Husband and I dipped up two bowls of soup and joined them. One of the aunts asked, "What have you newlyweds been up to today?"
I replied, quite innocently, "We've been in the bed all day."
A couple of the aunts gasped out loud.
Another one said, "Well, my goodness!"
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