The girls had been looking forward to it for weeks. And that’s only because I hadn’t told them sooner. With such exciting plans as these, I tried to keep it from them as long as possible. Because I knew the moment they found out all I’d hear was, “How many days until Anja’s wedding?” Not, “How soon will we see our cousin Joshua?” or “When do we get to go to the beach?” but “When will it be Anja’s wedding?”
Weddings are kind of a big deal to our girls. There haven’t been many weddings in their recent memory (which is rather short when you’re ages 4 and 6, respectively). So to them, a wedding is an occasion to be celebrated to the hilt. And the expectancy only grows the longer they have to wait.
Their anticipation climaxed as we sat in the church waiting. “Weddings never start on time,” their daddy tried to explain. But that didn’t keep them from exclaiming, “I can’t wait to see what Anja looks like in her dress!” over and over and over again.
They fought over the premium view position at the end of the pew one minute, and put on big girl expressions the next. They smoothed their hair and dresses, imagining they must look almost as beautiful as the princess-like bride they were expecting.
And then, the music changed and the mother of the bride rose. My girls were almost speechless with delight.
Meanwhile, their little brother was paging through hymnal after hymnal. Apparently the black and white letters and notes held far more interest than the scene that was being played out before him. He seemed oblivious to what captivated his sisters’ attention. But his persistent dropping of the hymnals and kicking of the pew let on that he might have been trying to annoy his sisters just a bit, too.
“When we can eat cake?” was his only indication that he knew we were at a wedding.
I’m not sure how many chocolate-covered strawberries Daniel ate while we waited for the bride and groom to join the reception. But they did not deter him from his persistent need for cake. His daddy kept explaining that as soon as they cut the cake, then and only then could he have a cupcake.
The moment the bride and groom had fed each other bits of cupcake, Daniel ran straight to the table and dipped his finger in the frosting. Apparently it passed inspection, because he grabbed the cupcake and raced back to our table, to the laughter of all who had seen the little performance. He didn’t waste any time waiting to be told. They had cut the cake, and that meant it was time.
Girls may go to weddings for the sweet kiss and the pretty dresses, but apparently even the youngest of boys go for the cake.