I mentioned yesterday that my sister asked me to officiate her wedding. Since I’m fairly new to this, I sat down with the happy couple in order to discuss about what I was planning on saying during my charge to the happy couple. I mean, who wouldn’t think that having their older brother performing the ceremony of their wedding is a good idea? It’s not like she ever went to my message board and posted embarrassing/humiliating pictures of me or anything. (Not that I had a chance to repay my little brother for his own brand of chaos at his wedding last month).

She vetoed any use of props. Then limited me to eight seconds of ad-libbed comments. However, I demonstrated just how long eight seconds was. After that, I had to submit my script in advance for approval. After that, she had two simple rules:

1. Stay on script
2. Don’t use “the voice” (apparently the clear signal to my friends that I’m about to make a spectacle of myself is that I start using my “preacher” voice. Mind you, it’s a voice that I never use when I actually speak in front of a congregation)

Here is the original draft:

Look at how many bridesmaids she has. Apparently if she’s ever said hello to you, you’re close enough to be in her wedding. I guess the reason she has so many bridesmaids is because we’re planning a march on Washington after the reception. They are like a walking Benetton ad. Black, white, Mexican. Black, white, Mexican. Black, white, … all mixed up. Actually, I ain’t playing with the Mexicans. I’ve done been warned that if I start tripping, they’ll cut me.

I’m not here to question the virtue of my sister, I’m just saying that she ain’t got no business wearing white. Not that anyone with the last name Broaddus has any room to talk. White has been removed from our box of Crayolas. (So I obvious had to go get a new crayon. And make a couple more).

Which leads me to something. I want to talk a moment about my sister’s taste in men. My personal theory is that, like many women, my sister has found herself dating men much like her father. Our father. Now, my father’s a good man, but he has many dimensions to his character, and my sister has often gravitated to some of the … lesser appreciated parts of his nature. Her baby’s daddy, for instance, Lord knows I tried to like him. But even Jesus is up in heaven saying “dag, he trifling.” (Cause, you know, that’s the way I hear my Lord. He’s down for whatever.) These are just jokes, man. I don’t need you getting your boys and trying to pop some caps in my ass.

Eric’s a good man. The first time I met him, he even made me feel safe. I had to stop myself from saying “Brotha, just hold me,” you know, in that manly way that men sometimes need to be held. I’m not talking about Brokeback Negroes or anything.

Rohini Broaddus, you are now Rohini Griffin. You leave behind the glorious Broaddus legacy. “What legacy?” you may be asking yourself. So allow me to explain to you what it means to be a Broaddus. On the whole, there are five points to being a Broaddus:

1. Sleep – really love it or really hate it (Jimi Hendrix’s “Manic Depression” is going through my head for some reason). Either we don’t sleep much at all or we never leave the bed. I’m talking, we can take our vacations and not move from bed.
2. Television – not like, not mindless vegging in front of the screen or the noise in the background variety of so-called tv-watching, but I’m talking a The Simpsons family level of love of it. With the added bonus of exceptionally discerning taste (although I can’t explain the female Broadduses love of reality television).
3. Porn – this is the iffy Broaddus gene. However, our scientists have determined that into each generation, one is chosen. A special one. A porn-er. Not me, not Ro … so I’ll leave it as “she who shall not be named.”
4. Money – the love of money. The Daffy Duck level of greed. Greed that trumps common sense. (It was either money or point to our love of alcohol, but it was pointed out to me that we only drink when alone or when we’re with people or to dull the pain).

5. This last point is the one actually germaine to our discussion. Broadduses have an inability to sustain relationships. (As my wife would all-too-gladly point out, the longest time we were together without breaking up was our six week engagement period. Other than that, we were good for maybe two weeks at a time). This points more to our commitment issues. It usually takes 5-6 times before a relationship sticks. I know you two know nothing about that.

Eric and Ro have respected the marriage bed. I know because I asked him. Don’t worry, I chose a discreet time to ask. The two families were meeting for the first time over dinner. The brotha was minding his own business, had a roll in his mouth, and I turned to him and asked “have you been boning my sister?” I know most of you would think “Well, what’s he going to say in front of the parents?” If you think he wouldn’t be honest, you don’t know Eric (or my family for that matter – we don’t hide much from each other. We live for sharing too much information).

Now, can I tell you something? Can I be real with you for a minute? I’m not done with Eric. You see, a real man, a true leader of the home is a servant. I have watched this man serve his family. Put their needs and interests before his own. This ceremony has just made it official. He’s been family for a while.

Ro hates it when I do this to her, but my sister is my hero. Life hasn’t always been easy for her. Sometimes it’s been due to her own hard-headedness, sometimes, well sometimes life just happens. The mark of a true disciple of Christ isn’t how often you stumble or how often life trips you up. The true mark is in how you get back up. How you dust off your knees from prayer, and how you keep on keeping on.

So, to Eric and Rohini. May God continue to watch over you and bind you to Him and to each other.

Sexual Chocolate.*

(*Because it’s my belief that every facilitator should have a sign off to let folks know that he’s done. And I’m a big fan of the movie Coming to America)

Well, she liked the ending (minus the “Sexual Chocolate” thing). I guess she was aiming for something a bit more spiritual throughout. The rest, however, she said I should save for the reception. (Hmm, more of my sister’s wisdom: a Broaddus + an open bar + a microphone = BRILLIANT!)

P.S. This just got cut. “Eric you may now kiss your bride. But she’s still my sister, so no tongues.”

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