My oldest sister married off her daughter over the weekend. She was the first of my nieces and nephews to marry so it was exciting to be apart of the celebration. At the reception, I was doing my best to help wherever I could and ended up doing the part of MC as well. Winding down, it came time to have the groom pull the garter from the bride’s leg and then have the bride throw the bouquet.
My youngest son, who won’t be fourteen until June, hears me tell all the single men in the room to gather so they can try and catch the garter. He runs over to join them. I pull the mic low so my chuckle won’t carry over the sound system, before gently telling him over the mic that he’s only thirteen.
He looks back at me and yells, “Yeah, but I’m a guy too.”
Well, I couldn’t argue with that so I decided it best to just let it go. Of course, being Mr. competitive he caught the garter and ran over to me to gloat.
Twirling it around his finger, he asked me, “So, what’s this for?”
My chuckle turned into full-blown laughter. “Well, son. It’s believed that the single male who catches the garter is the next one to be married. So congratulations! Who’s the lucky girl?”
He chucked it at me. “Ew, I don’t want it any more.”
Every patron in the room started laughing at his reaction. Maybe next time he’ll listen to his mother or, if I’m not there, ask someone why people are gathering before running headlong to join. Oh, he’s a character…one that now has a garter belt wrapped around his Optimus Prime transformer bank on his dresser. I hope his abuse of the poor thing ensures he won’t be next to marry, because even fourteen is way too young.