Daddy and Baby

So I was asked by a very dear friend today to be a groomsman in his wedding. For me, that's something not taken for granted. It means more than just standing during the ceremony trying not to look bored. A friend has invited me to present myself publically and represent him. I will bear as a symbol of his life before her, and after joining hands with the assigned bridesmaid, I'll be a symbol of their union together. So even their pasts will hold hands. It's easy to forget the power of that symbolism. At least, that's how I feel about it. Of course, all I'm really thinking when I'm up there is don't yawn, don't pick your nose, and most especially, don't roll your eyes. "I love you Linda. Your heart and my heart are one, never to be set asunder. Never to be parted, partitioned, apportioned, or abstracted" My eye's roll, maybe a little gagging. Then the preacher punches me in the face.

But along with asking me to be a groomsman, they'd like Happy Baby Monkey to be a flower girl. It's kind of surreal that my role as a symbol of someone else's life, would also involve the biggest symbol of love in mine.

I just hope she doesn't poop her pants.