Vegetable Wedding

*Quinn picks up the garden pea and cherry tomato, goofy grin fixed firmly on his face.

“Hey y’all, let’s have a wedding.”

A plastic spoon and fork serve as aisle boundaries.

“This is Peasil,”—holding up the garden pea—“and this is Tomary.”—lifting the cherry tomato

high in the air. “Here.” He shoves a pepper to Zeke. “You be the minister.”

The audience sings Tread Softly very softly, and the happy couple struts, or rather, hops

down the aisle in leaps and bounds, totally in sync. They lay down on the front bench, because, you know, they cannot sit.

The pepper stands very awkwardly in front of the couple, with a very Zeke-like voice intoning a couple sentences.

Suddenly Peasil leaves his place beside the fair Tomary. “He needs the bathroom,” explains Quinn. Then he goes on to ask, “What if that would actually happen in a real wedding?”

The audience laughs. When Peasil returns, the pepper minister is wrapping up his sermon. “Now for the vows,” says Quinn. “Does anyone know them?”

I volunteer, saying, “I know some of them.” Fern helps out, because she recently had a

sister get married.

I say the vows, and Zeke repeats them after me, asking the couple the all important

questions.

“Do you declare that you are lawfully unmarried and are free from all other marriage

engagements? Peasil?”

“I do,” says Peasil in Quinn’s voice.

“Tomary?”

“I do,” squeaks Tomary in Quinn’s lady voice.

The vows aren’t said without mishaps and mixed up words, but eventually the couple is

married.

“You may kiss the bride,” says the pepper minister. Peasil and Tomary smack.

“Now the trio,” says Quinn. Peasil, Tomary, and the pepper minister end up singing that one. The audience sings a walk-out song and the couple again hops their way out of the church, perfectly in sync.

We skip the lunch and gift opening and launch straight into the couple’s send-off. As Peasil and Tomary prepare to leave, a spoon is smashed into their midst. Poor Peasil is split in half, and Tomary is squished with grief.

At least they died together.

The End

credits to my sister, B. She‘s an amazing writer.

*Names changed for privacy.