When Wes asked forty-nine times if he could wear his shorts and tshirt underneath his church clothes to the wedding we went to on Saturday I told him in exasperation "As long as I can't see it, you can do what you want. But you might be really hot." He was undeterred and happily tugged his khakis over his black soccer shorts and his (thankfully dark) blue dress shirt over his turquoise "Learn to Surf" tshirt.
There was lots of fooling around in the hotel before we made it to the car but eventually we fired up the GPS and pulled out of the parking lot with an hour to spare. We have learned to allow extra time before things like weddings to account for the invariable poop accident, throw up episode, encounter with fire ants, and the like. Twenty minutes later we arrived at the wedding with no issues.
It was a Christmas miracle.
The wedding was at a sprawling college campus so Ryan parked the car and found a campus map. He located the only building on the map with the word "chapel" in the name and we all started walking. And walking. And walking. Wes complained that he was getting hot. I ignored him.
After walking the entire perimeter of the "chapel" and not finding any open doors or other relatives we figured we were not in the right place. I was exhausted so Ryan took James to go get the car to pick us up. I stayed behind with Charlie and Wes. Charlie found a bird's egg to admire. Wes continued to complain about being hot. I was patient at first, reminding him that we were all hot and that there was nothing we could do about it. When that didn't work I started taking pictures of him looking angry for my amusement.
It was a good chance to practice with the new camera.
Because, you know, complaining kids are nothing new around here. They can complain about ANYTHING--"Charlie counted the holes in my Crocs but *I* wanted to count the holes in my Crocs" is what I got to listen to all the way home from the Y tonight--so we tend not to take incessant whining seriously anymore. Go to college and get a good job so you can discuss it with your therapist one day, I say. It was all I could do to stop myself from saying "No KIDDING you're hot, you have two sets of clothes on and it's over ninety degrees out here."
Finally Ryan arrived with the over-air-conditioned car and we all piled in. Ryan had to help Wes buckle because (we assumed) he was pissed off about something. Like being hot. Which he continued to complain about. Because I am sensitive and nurturing I finally lost it and said "WES! WHAT do you want me to do? I know it's hot! Everyone is hot! It's SUMMER! There is nothing we can do about you being hot!"
And then he refused to get out of the car at the ceremony (which Ryan had found in the mean time). Ryan suggested I take Charlie and he'd take the little kids to find a parking spot. Probably because he saw all the veins on my forehead popping out like a relief map of the New York City subway system.
Ryan came in shortly after Charlie and I snuck in (which was sometime after the bridal procession) and we all settled in the back two pews with another family that had five kids. Perfect camouflage for all of our whispers and giggles and hissed reprimands to SIT UP SIT UP SIT UP SIT UP GOD GAVE YOU A SPINE FOR A REASON. Just before the Psalm reading Wes turned around in his seat and looked at me.
And he looked BAD.
Beet red face, half-open eyes, listless.
"RYAN!" I said in a stage whisper "HE LOOKS TERRIBLE!"
Ryan took one look at him and whisked him out of the back of the sanctuary to find a water fountain. Later he told me Wes was unable to walk all the way to the car so Ryan sat him on a staircase and told him not to move while he RAN back to the car to get a water bottle, which he filled up TWICE in the men's room for Wes to drink.
By the time they returned to the sanctuary (after the ceremony), Wes was completely back to normal.
Heat emergency aside, we had a great time at the reception, which was in a beautiful historic mansion with a gently sloping lawn for the kids to run around. And also to throw handfuls of ice at each other, which considering Wes's situation was probably the perfect activity for them.
All better immediately following the ceremony.
Cousin screentime break.
This ("hugging") invariable turns into...
There were cupcakes (yummy, yummy cupcakes), naturally.
Wes and I kicked up our heels.
And James drank about two gallons of pineapple and cantaloupe aquas frescas from all the kids' leftovers he could get his hands on and had to ride home pantsless. Par-tay an-i-mal.