We were honored when my brother and his fiancee asked David to be their ring bearer. He did a great job. He did such a good job that the first line of his resume now reads “proficient and bearing rings and wearing bow ties.” If anyone else out there is looking for a ring bearer, I know a handsome blonde three-year old that would be up for it.

But, even though he did a great job, I think of his stint as a ring bearer as a sine curve. It started very low. Because his first official ring bearer task was to get a haircut. And we all know how well that went.

When he came down with a double ear infection just days before the wedding, I thought we were chasing an impossible dream. Ring bearing was for other little boys. For us it would be a disaster.

And then, things started to look up. At the rainy rehearsal, we put his suspenders on and gave him a red umbrella; he had a great time.

But, maybe even more importantly than having fun, he actually walked down the aisle. It was the practice round, but he did it in a way that made me believe he took the whole thing seriously. And in a way that made me believe he heard and understood the deal — if he walked down the aisle, he would receive M&M’s. For that he’d walk through hot lava. Or share a toy with his sister.

Things really started looking up later that night at the dinner, where the restaurant served David’s favorite drink, lemonade. Then bride and groom gifted him with a giant stuffed football. And as if that wasn’t already the perfect gift for David, he loved it even more when he realized that ball was the only thing in the world his sister wanted.

The next day was the wedding, and I was nervous.  As soon as we arrived at the venue I dropped his bow tie and couldn’t find it for a solid 20 minutes. David rolled his eyes watching me running around in the grass wearing heels looking for his bow tie, worried that the whole thing would be ruined. So maybe his resume should be edited to: I’m proficient in bearing rings but do keep in mind that my mo-oo-om isn’t responsible with bow ties.

I chased him around until go-time because he does not understand that khakis need to be clean. I gave him a Hail Mary pep-talk before the processional and he was like, Mom, chill. I got this.

He gave the performance of his life.

And there we were, on a high, and then just before the end of the ceremony David decides to make a noise he’s never made before and has never made since. At the precise moment the pastor pronounced the couple husband and wife, David leaned over and made a vomiting sound. And I had a heart attack.

But he was just making the noise. Ha. Ha.

David must have known that, after the ceremony, the party would start. Because immediately after the ceremony ended he charmed the bride into letting him hold her bouquet.

And then the shenanigans officially started.

Not that there’s anything wrong with shenanigans.

Especially dance floor shenanigans.

Except for dance floor shenanigans when the bride and groom are having their first dance on the dance floor and the ring bearer decides THIS! THIS IS HIS MOMENT! HIS DANCE FLOOR DEBUT!

And then, two and a half hours past bedtime, the distinguished ring bearer capped off the evening on the dance floor, shirt unbuttoned, smashing a cupcake into his own mouth.

And so the sine curve was complete. Low-high-low.

Except. I suppose I actually can’t think of a better way to end a night than on a dance floor rubbing icing on my face. Well done, son.

Proficient in ring bearing, bow tie wearing, and thoroughly enjoying cupcakes.

[If you’re in the market for a bow tie, I got David’s at Amanda Jo Handmade.]

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