But the weekend didn’t turn out like that at all.
Instead, Liz came over to my house.
“Thank God,” she said as she blasted inside.
“You will not believe how annoying it gets
at my house!”
She flopped down on my couch,
opened her enormous purse,
and took out some pictures
of bridesmaid dresses.
“This is what they want me to wear
to that stupid wedding! Can you believe it?”
All the dresses looked like clouds of cotton candy,
belted with ribbons as flimsy as strips of chewing gum.
“Maybe they’d look good on you,” Liz mused,
looking at me.