B called me a few minutes ago during a break in classes...B: I just called the new Father at the Florence church.
Me: Uh oh.
B: He seems confused why we'd want him to perform the ceremony if we already know the Abbot and the Abbot is only going to be 90 miles away.
Me: But we don't know the Abbot either!
B: I know, I tried to tell him that and he said that he thought the Abbot would be much more qualified.
Me: For goodness sakes. Is this six? Or is it seven.
B: I don't even want to think about it.
We're tabling the conversation until he's done with classes. Luckily, we both find this whole thing pretty hilarious. Who has this much trouble finding a priest? I feel like a used car--we've already done premarital counseling, have our paperwork processed, and are totally up for a traditional ceremony, no kooky twists included. Take us off the lot today!
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