My sister’s wedding is finally here, and as the entire family comes together this week to celebrate, my little love’s excitement can barely be contained. Her squealing has reached decibels that I didn’t know were possible, and our conversations flow back around to a single topic: her flower girls dresses. Plural.
As much as she loves to run, climb, jump, sling paint, and mold mud, my love muffin is a girl through and through. She changes dresses and princess costumes ten times a day, as well as shoes and hair accessories. It doesn’t matter how filthy or physical her escapades are, she will pursue them in ruffles and lace.
It’s only fitting then, that this wedding has three dresses: the bride’s gown, the flower girl’s tulle confection for the church, and the flower girl’s short and sweet number for the dance floor. In the words of her dear aunt, “she has to have another dress in which she can show off her dance moves!”
I’ve tried explaining the significance of the wedding to my precious girl. She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. To her, the groom’s first name is already Uncle. They are already family, already bound by devotion and giggles. He’s carried her pink backpack and birthday balloons, she’s snuggled with him on the couch while watching movies. Where her beloved aunt goes, he follows. Therefore, it’s clear to her what a wedding actually is. A party for flower girls to wear beautiful dresses and live out their princess fantasies.
So while the bride and groom blissfully await their special day, there is a sweet little person who is counting down the minutes to her special day as well. Trying to distract her from the closet brimming with gowns indoors, I took her outside to run off some steam. My parents’ dogs began barking back and forth with the neighbor’s dogs, and my love got upset thinking they were barking at her. I thought that I cleverly explained how the dogs were talking to each other about the cute little blonde in the backyard. I made up an entire canine conversation and even did different doggie voices. I thought that I had nailed it when she stared at me for a long, hard minute, before patronizingly asking, “Do dogs really talk?” With that, we went back inside to the closet of dresses, her real-life, three old fairytale come true.
Before packing up our dresses and hitting the road, we made an Aloo Gobi recipe that I’ve been fantasizing about for awhile now. It was simple and packed with energizing flavor, leaving us full and ready to focus on celebrating family and love. In the high-pitched squeals of my dear daughter, who immediately upon opening her eyes this morning proclaimed, “It’s have a nice wedding time!”