In the last 2 months, we've had the pleasure of attending two weddings of cousins that mean an awful lot to us...they are practically big sisters to my crew; except without the annoying-big-sister-part. And on such an occasion, the Queen, the King, and all the king's men...like to break out our "fancy" clothes ("fancy" is how my 6 year old refers to anything other than jeans and a tshirt....so jeans and a collared shirt is "FANCY"!)
Case is point:
Here we are looking especially "fancy"!
But for the second wedding, my oldest two princes had the honor of being the ushers...a task they didn't take lightly. The boys got to adorn their athletic frames with "fancy" tuxedos (side bar- those are super, duper expensive!). And since Lt. Hubby was busy coaching, I was in charge of assembling my soldiers SOLO! Do you have any idea how many pieces there are to a tuxedo?! I thought the ladies get-up was difficult. Nope! The dudes have it way, WAY harder. And I didn't just have one dude to assemble...they both needed my assistance. In my defense, I've never put on a tux; I've only ever taken one off (wink, wink)!
Apart from the 9 year old's shirt being about 2 sizes too small (seriously...funniest thing I've ever seen. Think "fat guy in a little coat"...only my dude is far from fat.) Anyshirtsize, I successfully got my oldest men locked and loaded...and ready to walk some "peeps to their seats!" Unfortunately, looks are the only thing tuxes are made for. My boys were very uncomfortable...and they informed me all the way to the church. They did ponder, however, how on earth James Bond made fighting crime look so effortless and "fancy"! As they practiced their introductions/impersonations, "Bond. James Bond." I kicked them out of their get-away car (minivans don't say crime fighter, by the way) and managed to snap a few photos of my undercover agents...before they dutifully marched those ladies to their seats!
Here's my 5 special agents.
Here are my special agents coming up with their game plan. Everything about their mission was a competition...I think including who could seat the ladies the fastest. (Tyson's first victim...um guest...could barely keep up with him in her super-high-fancy-party heels!)
Let the games begin!
My special agents weren't approved to fly solo quite yet. Here is their supervising agent...giving subtle words of advice about "s-l-o-w-i-n-g d-o-w-n".
And last, but certainly not least...is the head agent Mama and her boss, Tucker!
All in all, the mission was a success, even though, the unmonitored 6 year old was discovered sipping his very own strawberry daiquiri...which was quickly confiscated!
