Dadzilla, Mon!

Yes, that's my dad. Clipboard in hand, surveying his kingdom (otherwise know as my wedding venue).

I just got off the phone with my dad. He just added another person to my guest list. Another one of his golfing buddies that I have never met. To my intimate seaside wedding. After I told him over Christmas "the invitations are ordered, the guest list is closed." My name is Miss Kitten and I have a dadzilla.

Allow me to back up for just a moment. I actually have two dads. My mom and dadzilla divorced when I was young. When I was seven, my mom married my stepdad (if you read the earlier post about the "Wedding Book," that was my stepdad). I am close with both my dad and stepdad, and they are both equally "dads" to me. I have definitely pondered the "who is walking me down the aisle" question, and I will post later about the various options available to those my situation. But to lessen the confusion, I will from now on refer to them as dad (stepdad) and dadzilla ("real" dad).

I love Dadzilla and want him to be involved in the wedding. But he's a little TOO involved at the moment. It all started when my brother and I decided to take Dadzilla to Grand Cayman for his 50th birthday. Dadzilla LOVES the beach. He grew up in Jamaica, which is a close neighbor to the Cayman Islands, and he visits the Caribbean whenever he can. He was thrilled about the vacation, especially because it doubled as an information-gathering trip for the wedding.

Cayman Trip--Brother Kitten, me, and Dadzilla

The trip started off well enough. But it soon became apparent that Dadzilla had appointed himself wedding planner by virtue of growing up in the Caribbean. Every time we met someone on the island, Dadzilla would tell them (in his Jamaican accent), that he grew up in Jamaica. It was clear that he thought vendors would take him seriously and treat him like a "local" if they were privy to such information. Soon, he was best friends with every bellman, towel girl, and concierge at our hotel, greeting them by name (imagine in Jamaican accent) "[Devon], how's it going brotha?" and bidding adieu with the never-too-cliche "One love, mon."

Dadzilla is convinced that he should be the one dealing with the local vendors. After all, they are practically "his people." He wants to deal with the wedding venue, the hotels, the snorkel guides, the pirate ship (yes I said pirate ship, more on that later), the rental car companies, and the DJ (so as to be sure that an acceptable amount of Bob Marley is played, of course). So what exactly does that leave me, the bride, to do?

Luckily, email is not part of Dadzilla's "rasta" lifestyle so he thinks he is going to settle everything when he arrives to Cayman, just days before the wedding. Little does he know that I have been in constant communication with all of the vendors over email since our trip in July, so everything will be settled before he arrives. I'm sure, in dadzilla fashion, he will try to take over the plans when he arrives, but hopefully it will be too late!

Does anyone else have a dadzilla on their hands?