So a dear friend of ours is getting married a week from Saturday.  Today, she and Mrs. R met for lunch and to go over final plans regarding how the Family Robbo will take part in the ceremony.

The Dear Friend, although not especially fond of children, has been a real sport about our gels (she’s the 8-year old’s Godmother), taking them out on occasion, babysitting now and again, dutifully showing up for birthday parties and other special occasions, and just generally insisting that they be involved when we get together.   And now for her wedding, she wants them to be her flower girls.

While I appreciate the sentiment very much, I can’t help being somewhat apprehensive about what the D.F. is letting herself in for.  While her Goddaughter is pretty much guaranteed to beam like a searchlight, I have a nagging premonition of the 10 Y.O. getting her grouch on about something or other and glaring at the congregation like the Empress Livia on a bad morning.  As for the 6 Y.O., the mind simply boggles: She is fully capable of stage-diving off the altar if not kept under heavy restraint.

Mrs. R is going to be the matron of honor, by the way, and I am going to give a reading, so we both should be well within range to “give the hook” should any of the gels need it.  At least we’ve got that going for us.