Over the weekend, the family and I ascended Mt. Doom and peered into the Eye of Sauron.
No, wait! Sorry! What I meant is, the family traveled across our state and halfway through the next one to attend a family wedding. In August in the Midwest, this is a little like ascending Mt. Doom, only hotter. At the end of the wedding, everyone chucks a ring into Mordor, ridding Middle Earth of evil, cake and wedding speeches.
This wedding, unlike many family obligations, was a BIG DEAL for my kids because they had jobs, other than sitting still and staying quiet. The boy was a ring bearer and the girl was a flower girl.
The daughter, Sophie, dutifully hit her marks and scattered her petals. She’s a trained dancer and handles herself like a pro.
The boy is…well, not a trained performer. Also, he’s five. And he was surrounded by dozens of people he doesn’t know, wearing uncomfortable clothes, which included suspenders AND a bow tie. (Bow ties are cool. ding obligatory Doctor Who reference.)
But…he is definitely a natural performer. He enjoys the spotlight. I kept waiting for him to yell at the wrong time, wander off the aisle, feed the rings to a passing raccoon.
But he didn’t. He took his job seriously and did it well. Good for the wedding…bad for the blog.
Fortunately, he didn’t take much else seriously. For one, he worked the bridesmaids. As he handed one her bouquet, she asked, “Are you a ladies man today?” He grinned. “Yes, I am.”
And he wasn’t done. When handing another bridesmaid her bouquet (there was lots of that), she commented, “that’s so nice. If only you were 20 years older.”
Charming the ladies. Just like his old man.
When the ceremony was over, he even marched down the aisle after everyone cleared out and picked up the petals the daughter had thrown. The only thing that could have made him happier was if we’d let him vacuum.
My daughter got to keep her flower petal box. It even has her name on it. The boy got to keep his suspenders. Everyone lived. Well, except the flower:
This boutonniere was pristine when the day started. But after countless photos – indoors and out – running around, standing, sitting, posing, marching it needed those stick pins to just hold it together, let alone hold it in place. It was wilted and tired and falling apart. Kind of like the boy’s weary parents.
Family weddings are momentous, joyous occasions. Thankfully, they only come around once in a while.