I went to this wedding on Saturday and caught the bouquet. I don't believe in that anymore but it can't hurt.
I was my sister's plus one because she and her husband were in the wedding and needed a babysitter.
So while the two of them did weddingish stuff like get elaborate up-dos (my sister), dress the bride (my sister) and enjoy a drink with the boys (my bro-in-law), I changed baby Benjamin into his teeny-tiny white wedding suit and green bow tie.
And he went from cute little rolled up bundle to stiff straight-jacket infant with a stand up collar. Kind of adorable.
I held him and walked briskly around the house when he got fussy. Which he did a lot of. His parents planned to walk him down the aisle and then turn him over to me during the ceremony. So after they walked down the aisle, I collected the kid from his daddy, who had taken up position next to the other groomsmen.
And that baby was silent the entire time. He cuddled and slept until the end of the ceremony, which is when he'd had enough of the silent treatment and let out a loud squawk.
The cocktail hour after the wedding was great and the food at the reception was delicious. After dark, speeches broke out at the reception and vigorous dancing commenced.
And then the bride through the bouquet. My sister pushed me out there. And when the bride threw the bouquet and it hit the tent ceiling and went straight down about two yards in front of our little group, I took a step forward to make a lunge at it. Except instead of gracefully moving forward, my foot gracefully slipped and I gracefully plummeted face first to the floor. Where I lay plastered for a second, swathed in my black dress, before I quickly pushed to my feet, bouquet in hand.
I turned with embarrassment and one of the girls behind me said, "It's yours, you earned it."
And then I set the bouquet down at my seat and walked to the bathroom, where I nursed my wounds in quiet mortification.