What did we do? That was the name given to the Sunday BBQ after Lauren and I made it official. While the question was rhetorical, it didn’t really matter as the younger generation wasn’t ready to answer morning after, about the night before. Luckily, there’s no better remedy than pulled pork and shenanigans.

More Day After, after the break.

When the sleepover crew crawled down from the porch, Mama was busy setting up one hell of a party. Allow me to set the scene. We’re talking multiple tables, each representing a different “time” in the happy couple’s relationship. Beyond that, the lawn games stretched out as far as the eye could see—we’re talking ladder golf, baggo, and a vintage croquette set.

With bellies full and bathing suits on, the crew moved west. Some good samaritan pumped up the floaties, and shortly thereafter the party fell victim to the pool’s gravitational pull.

Sadly, all good things must come to an end. Flight times grew closer, friends said goodbyes, and family shared memories as the water grew still.

If you’ve made it this far, what did we do?

We damn well enjoyed ourselves.