WEDDING BELLS AND BABY BLUES

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They tell me my sister’s wedding was a lovely service.

I wouldn’t know, seeing as how I was three blocks down the street repeatedly saying, “DO NOT HIT ME WITH THE PINK ELEPHANT!”

No, I didn’t break into the champagne a little early. You see, I have a two-year-old, and two-year-olds are not exactly Emily Post when it comes to weddings.

I think the problems all arose with seating. You see, we were seated up front on the family row. In reality, my wife, daughter and I should have probably been seated in the back row. Of the Astrodome.

I first knew there would be trouble when we all got seated. We were waiting for the bridal parties to stroll down the aisle, while a harpist played very soothing music, as harpists are supposed to do. When she finished her first song, my daughter, seeing this as a personal concert for her, screamed, “YEAH!!!! PLAY AGAIN!!!”

Fine enough. Even evoked a chuckle out of the crowd. But what is cute to other people is often the most mortifying to the parents. I kept hoping that things would settle down, but they just went from bad to worse. First came my mom down the aisle. “GRANDMA!!!!”

Next came my sister’s fianc�. “UNCLE JIM!!!” And then the family reunion overload really kicked in when my sister and father came down the aisle at once. This was way too much for my daughter, who sprung cheatah-like out of my lap and made a dart for my father. My mother, being the quick thinker she is, threw out the Allie net and corralled her in. I started to go and get Allie, who made it very clear that my lap was one of the last places she wanted to sit, and that she was perfectly fine in Grandma’s lap, thank you very much.

At least until Grandpa sat down. But to make it extra fun, she didn’t want to sit in Grandpa’s lap. She wanted to sit in Grandpa’s chair, which, as you can imagine, leaves Grandpa sans chair. And, of course, she is providing a Madden-style commentary throughout the wedding.

At this point, I decided it was time for action. My daughter was not being bad. She was just being two. But the problem was, no one outside of my sister and her fianc� could actually hear anything that was going on. That and my father was having to sit on the floor, which hardly seems fair for the father of the bride.

So, during a brief pause in the ceremony, in as fluid of a motion as possible, I leapt from my chair, grabbed Allie and headed for the door. After about two steps, I realized I should probably unpry her hand from my father’s chair first.

Needless to say, she went into full-blown scream mode at this point. By the time I got outside, she had reached a pretty impressive level of unhappiness, and was taking it out on her stuffed pink elephant.

The wedding was over a short time later, and we went in for the reception. After a quick refresher nap, Allie was ready to party. The reception was perfect for her, since she could be as loud and mobile as she cared, and people would even take pictures of her.

The worst part about this is that, for the most part, my daughter is very good at things like this. But this was a lot of overload for her, I’m sure. And, it was affirmed to me at the reception that I was FAR more concerned about it than most of the wedding attendees. And they’re probably right. When I’m in public and a child is crying, I very rarely even notice. If I do notice, I usually feel some sympathy for the parent.

In all, the ultimate goal of the day was met, though, which was for my sister to get married. At least they tell me she did.