Weddings Atlantic

The First Day of My Honeymoon: A Short Story

StorytimeAshley RossignolComment

Disclaimer: This is a non-fiction, raw depiction of the hilarity that was the first 24 hours of my honeymoon, please enjoy

It started simply enough, at the Fredericton airport bright and early to catch a flight to Toronto, where would spend the day and night before boarding a plane to our final destination of Jamaica! As fresh newly-weds and parents to two young children, the both of us could not have been more thrilled to be heading away for a week of sun, sand, and relaxation! The overnight stop in Toronto wasn't ideal, but it was the flight we booked and it was July, so it wasn't like we couldn't enjoy what a big city like Toronto has to offer! We were also lucky to be able to stay for free downtown at my brother's empty condo so we would be within walking distance of lots to see and do and great places to eat! 

To be honest, my memory of arriving and getting to my brother's condo is vague, which leads me to believe it must have been fairly simple and stress free. And that's about where the simplicity and lack of stress abruptly stopped. You see, knowing I would be stopping in Toronto before heading on to Jamaica, I packed considerably light - and not for reasons of convenience , no, no, it was for reasons of shopping. I had the brilliant thought that most of what I would need for my trip I would just gather in the short afternoon we had in the bigger city! More to see, more options, better shopping! It wasn't until Patrick and I arrived at the giant, overwhelming, Eaton Centre that I let my fresh Husband know I was there in search of my vacation wardrobe. This was probably this first time but not last time (during the next 24hr span) he considered an annulment, but I'm guessing he was still floating around in that newlywed glowy cloud and decided to just kiss me on the cheek and say "ok, let's do this"... 

About an hour or 2 later (Pat would argue that it had been several) I think I may have purchased a pair of $6 Old Navy flip flops, and our lunch in the dingy basement foodcourt - the romance of our honeymoon was in full swing! Patrick was already mid-mental breakdown when I let him know I just needed to check out a few more places. Quickly his role shifted from doting husband that carried my "worth a try-on options" to the "I'm waiting in the hallway", pacing, sweating, get me the hell out of this mall, husband. Recognizing that he was severely triggered - I sweetly mentioned I just needed, you know, like 4 more complete outfits and then we are outta here! 

You can guess how well that went over (not well). Quickly, I grabbed whatever somewhat appealed to me off some racks at H&M, skipped the fitting room, and headed to the checkout. If I didn't have many outfit options, I would just have to spend more time in my bikinis, which I figured may smooth over any distress I had caused my poor, poor husband. Free to leave the Mall, Patrick walked about 10 paces ahead of me so furiously in search of an exit passerby must have been looking for the fire he was escaping. When finally outside, Patrick decided he was going to find us a cab and set off, I felt maybe it was best to let him "take a walk" and just hung back for a hot minute. As I stood alone on the sidewalk, a stranger approached me. Figuring this young man would be in search for directions I was ready to offer that I was not from here. Instead, he struck up friendly conversation - being from the East Coast, I politely engaged, and only by the time he asked what I was up to for the evening did I realize he was hitting on me. Rarely, if ever, not including on the dancefloor of the former IRock, had I been so confidently approached by someone - this on about the second day of being married. "Oh, tonight? I'm actually just on the first night of my Honeymoon" I responded as Patrick approached, still a feverish shade of red from the whole "mall incident". "Nice chatting with you, byyyyyyee" I said to the street stranger and so continued our romantic evening. "Who was that?" Pat asked harshly, "Oh him? ahh I don't know, he ahh thought he knew me or something, what?"... My clueless act either worked, or Pat had just stopped listening after asking his question anyway. After walking some distance, we finally hailed a cab. I was instructed to watch out the window with hawklike vision for a "beer store" I had to agree, this seemed like a logical next step. We spotted one about 2 blocks from my brother's condo, "Heres good, bud" Pat said to the cab driver. After we purchased some liquid sanity, we walked the rest of the way to the condo. 

That evening, we only gave one small, single, thought to going out to one of the many nearby restaurants before deciding an outing was likely out of our mental reach. Unfamiliar with take-out options in the area we did some googling on our phones before Pat gave up saying, "I'll find something, be right back"

On the first night of our Honeymoon, in downtown Toronto, Patrick and I stayed in, ate pizza pockets that he bought at the closest corner store and binged several episodes of RuPaul's Drag Race on Netflix. In a word, it was perfect. 

And yes, we went on to have a most lovely time in Jamaica, plenty of fun, sun, met some cool people and yes, even some real, genuine "classic" romance! It just goes to show that in planning anything, your wedding, your honeymoon - you have a set of expectations usually set around nothing short of the 100's of rom-coms you base your life around. But sometimes (all the time?) reality doesn't play out just exactly how we hoped. Letting go and living in the moment allows for the expectations to slip away and finding out that pizza pockets and a cuddle on the couch was actually exactly the romantic night that you will never forget. 

Let us know about your imperfectly, perfect, romantic nights! They are the best kind ;)

xo Ashley