The Ring Bearer

On Sunday, my baby brother, Geoffrey George, is getting married.  Jake has been named as a “ring bearer.”

For the occasion, we bought him a little 3-piece grey suit (I promise to post a picture, post-matrimony).  I was having a hard time justifying a pair of wear-once dress shoes, so we found some really adorable matching grey converse.  I think it will look very J-Crew.

In any case, Jake has pretty much refused to wear hard sole shoes, ever.  He can only wear the finest soft-soled moccasin like shoes that mimic bare feet.  When we tried the Converse on him at Nordstrom’s, he stood stock still and just cried.  We figured that with some practice, he’d get used to them.

James started the footwear desensitization project yesterday, strapping him into his new velcro Chuck Taylor All Stars.  James called me at work…  “Jake is crawling around the house.”

Apparently there was measurable improvement by the end of the day.

We also thought we should do a little “ring pillow” practice, since my attempts at explaining a wedding to Jake were met with clear disinterest and a general air of cluelessness.  Mommy walked up and down the hall with a little pillow, humming the wedding march.  “See how carefully I hold this pillow in front of me?  OK, now you try.”

We put Jake in his newly hemmed 3-piece suit to make sure it fits.  We don’t bother with the shirt, just the pants and jacket.  Then I delicately hand over the little white pillow.  Mommy starts humming the wedding march…. da da da dum, da da da dum…

Jake takes three steps, hoists the pillow back over his shoulder, and throws it about two feet.  He then picks it up and hurls it another two feet, repeating this process down the entire length of the hall and back.

I don’t really think this is what Geoff and Angela had in mind when they bestowed him with this honor.