It’s 5:21 on Saturday. And I’m nervous. My first born son is about to walk down the aisle. I know if we can just keep him calm and his tux clean for another 9 minutes we’ll make it. He’ll be holding the hand of a satin clothed princess as he proudly bears upon a pillow the ring that will wed Mike and Robyn. Or the symbolic ring, as Mike, a very wise man, is not foolish enough to entrust jewelry to my toddler. But they can not find the ring pillow.Jorma has been wresting with Connor for 45 minutes, struggling to keep him clean, waiting to pounce like a cat in case he bolts for the golf green, so he can roll like a dog in the grass. I too am on guard, flinching if he makes the slightest twitch towards the muddle puddle to the right. To Connor, this is a challenge. He senses the tension in the air and knows it’s about him, he knows he’s not supposed to climb that tree or play in that mud and that’s all he wants to do. The flower girl clutches his hand and together they try to run away to escape the parents chasing after them. If Connor is picked up, she clutches at his feet trying to pull him back down, until they are broken apart by her guardian.
In my lifetime, I have never witnessed such cuteness. If you put a truck load of baby ducks, in a sled filled with kittens that was being pulled by Labrador puppies you could not get more cuteness, than Connor in a tux, holding the flower girl’s hand. It’s 6:00 pm and I am no longer nervous, it’s time to teach my son the Electric Slide.
2 comments:
That pic of Conner holding the flower girls hand is precious. Im glad to see Mike's wedding went well too.
this is just sooo sweet.
~Amanda
Post a Comment