Why didn’t we contact a mechanic when we got to our hotel? That’s a great question.

We quickly, or as quickly as was possible given that we were both totally exhausted, changed into wedding mode. I’m not sure why I was worried about the shade of lipstick — behind the stifling (and matching!) mask, no one knew the difference.

I then took a deep breath and decided that considering that we were on our way to a glorious simchah, we had to enjoy what was happening at all costs. I put away my phone so I wouldn’t be distracted, and we even started talking again. Well, he had never really stopped. I, on the other hand, figured it was time to grow up.

At this point we’d become experts at denial. So we got back into the overheated car, punched in the address of the hall, and, accompanied by the musical dancing locks, felt confident we wouldn’t be too late.

Waze (remind me why we keep using this) told us that we were six minutes away. Because we do what we are told, thirty-five pinging minutes later, we were still driving around in circles. In desperation we pulled into a gas station to ask directions to the wedding hall the old fashioned way. Attempting to call our children by using my husband Abby’s phone (remember what I said about not wanting to be distracted? Hah!) didn’t help, because his phone wasn’t working either.

At that point, Price Charming was at the next gas pump and we asked him directions to the hall. His mother really raised him right because he smiled and said, “Follow me.” If he hadn’t, we’d still be driving around in circles. I hope he was able to hear our profound thanks above the roar of the overheated car fan.

And that’s why there will be no formal pictures of us at the wedding. I arrived just in time to accompany the bride, the mothers, and the other grandmothers into the hall to begin the simcha. Hardly anyone mentioned my glistening complexion, and I certainly hope there are no pictures of my wilted wig.

With the baddeken over, the outside chuppah was about to begin. Our children honored us by asking us to be part of the processional walk to the chuppah. Because the wedding guest list was limited to family only, arrangements had been made for livestreaming for extended family and friends. My cousin called the next day to say how sweet it was that hubby and I smiled at each other as we began to march down.

That’s what she thought she saw.

Here’s what actually happened:

As we both took the first few steps down the aisle Abby leaned over, smiled and whispered to me, “My suspenders just snapped. If anything happens, just keep walking…”

Let me assure you that miracles do happen because we made it down the very short aisle with hardly anyone the wiser.

One of our sons had heard the comment about the suspenders and was standing by, not sure what he would do if there would be any mishaps. He is my witness.

The rest of the wedding was truly wonderful and we drove back the next day with the fan blowing, the car pinging, and the locks dancing.

This time I used a different road map. Because sometimes we get so caught up with the destination we lose sight of the priorities seated right next to us…

Are we there yet?

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 709)