So I'm reading that Trista and Ryan's wedding cost $4 million. Four-million-bucks.
And I'm thinking, how the heck can a wedding cost 4 million clams?! Then I read the details.
Trista's strapless white satin dress was $70,000 -- 70,000 bucks for a dress! You'd think for all that dough, you'd "want" straps and sleeves!
Her shoes, complete with 282 diamonds? They were $50,000 -- that's 5-grand a toe!
The wedding cake was 15,000 bucks! I know it was seven tiers of chocolate, but I could have gotten them 30 tiers of Yodels for a fraction of that!
Then I'm thinking, my daughter's at college. Has a boyfriend. She probably likes this Trista-and-Ryan thing.
And maybe she's thinking to herself...I liked that dress. I liked those shoes. I liked that cake.
And I'm thinking to myself, "Sweetie, I'd like to look into alternatives... if and when that horrible day comes."
Her mother's dress is still vacuum packed like one of those bodies frozen for scientific research. Surely that's an option for something to wear.
And I'm sure we could pull together a bundt cake or one of those Betty Crocker deals for something to eat!
I'm not even thinking about shoes. Perhaps she'll go barefoot on a beach -- little overhead there.
I guess it all just hit me. It's been hard enough adjusting to my daughter going away to college. Then thinking about potentially paying a fortune to lose her to marriage?
It’s way too cruel. I can't deal with that.
Maybe that's why weddings are so expensive: So dads like myself are more fixed on the eye-popping costs than the heart-tearing reality.
Either's giving me a heart attack. Both mean I'll have to leave some money aside for another event -- my funeral.
Trista and Ryan, I understand you're in a Five-Star Turtle Island resort in Fiji for your honeymoon. Please let my daughter know that's only because the heart-shape tub place in the Poconos was booked.
Watch Neil Cavuto's Common Sense weekdays at 4 p.m. ET on Your World with Cavuto.