My dad was the best man. (Joan, please note these photos were outside. And I was wishing for a fan.) My little man was the ring bearer, or would have been if a) they had remembered to buy a pillow and fake rings, and b) he had consented to walk down the aisle to Grampa instead of burying his face in my shoulder. (Note the green grass behind him.)
The Bug took over the camera then. It was for the best - he fell asleep on the 10 minute drive to the venue and had to be woken up. He was NOT happy. I sat him in Squeak's stroller and he snapped away most of the night. He would have gotten some good photos later in the evening, if he hadn't managed to smear pizza grease (from the kiddie meal) on the lens of my camera. Sigh. He didn't do too bad, given that he aims the camera by holding the digital screen, instead of the little viewfinder lens, up to his eye.)
My new SIL is fantastic, but I just gotta ask - who told my punk-ass brother he could grow up into such a cool guy? Damn.
