WEDDING bells rang recently in my house — at 10:05 on a Friday night in late April, to be precise — and they sounded very much like Verizon.
“I have some good news, Ma,” my son, Justin, said.
(I assumed the long-awaited promotion had come through.)
“You did what?” (I had heard the word “eloped” somewhere in there.) “And you didn’t invite your mother?”
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