My wife-to-be and I decided to be married in the treehouse where we used to play as kids.
We felt it would be romantic if Suzanne, myself, and the preacher stood on it’s balcony as the guests watched from below.
The problem arose when, prior to the wedding, I drove out to my parents house to inspect the tree house and get it ready for the ceremony.
To make a long story short, I was standing on the balcony when it collapsed.
Down I went. When I landed, I had a broken shin bone.
The result: instead of a romantic wedding and honeymoon, I got married supported by crutches and a honeymooned in Aspen where I couldn’t ski.
The funniest part of being in Aspen in that condition was the puzzled looks I got. Those looks said, “Why would anyone come here with a broken leg?”
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