So I married my mom

Mom and Dad will celebrate 50 years of marriage on Friday.

We are throwing them a big party Saturday, and family members are coming in all this week for the party. Some are already here and this is my excuse for not blogging more this week.

The party invite included a wedding picture. Mom is recognizable by her smile, but Dad looks nothing the same. He has light hair and is real skinny. He never looked like that since I have known him.

I am sure some meanies will say it was the stress of raising me that aged him. Let me just say before moving on: Poppycock!

I never thought I looked like Dad, either in the younger pictures or in his adult look -- heftier but not fat with dark hair.

But several of Mom's friends saw the wedding invitation and asked why she was marrying me.

I still didn't see it. Part of that may be because I can't imagine myself out of a chair. But Mom didn't see it either.

We looked through the wedding album, and I was ready to call her friends senile ... until I found this picture.

Dad is smiling, you can't see his legs because of the girl and the white blends in with whoever is next to him (Mom, I assume), and his arm is bent at the elbow.

Now I can't get over how much I look like Dad. I am usually smiling, my legs are visible but never in a standing position and my arms are almost always bent.