Nov 9, 2015

Table for four. Party of six

He will wake me up. Because no matter how much of a morning person I am, he's always an earlier riser.
"It is time. " He whispers to me under the duvet. And I smile.
And the next few hours seem to flash by in the blink of an eye.

I am sitting on a chair, my boy, our son is falling asleep on my lap. His face is the smell of icing sugar and his tux is all messed up. Our girl, our daughter is playing with my hair.
He comes closer. And tries not to wake our furry kids that are resting under my chair.

My short white dress is all damp now. Earlier, the rain decided to say hello for a few minutes. Enough to make my make up run, enough to frizz my hair. Enough to ruin the cake, the flowers and the one table we have.


Table for four. Party of six.

He kisses my forehead and I can smell his skin and I can touch his hair.
"You still look beautiful, Ibu. Right, Daddy?", our girl-our daughter says to me in her sleepy voice.
"Yes, she does."

And you wipe my teary eyes.

"I love your wedding, Ibu," our boy murmurs in his sleep.
"Hey, it is my wedding too." His Dad teases him. But he's already fast asleep.

The lights are dimmed as the maitre d' approaches us with the check. "It was the best party of six I have ever arranged. Even with the rain," he tells us. "Congratulations."

"It's our wedding. All six of us married to become a family today," our girl tells him, as she climbs onto her Dad, hugs him, and rests her tired head on his shoulder. She lost her white ribbon from her curly hair, but she does not realize it yet. 
"Yes... it's ours," her Dad responds. 

And we snuggle in the car together that evening, going home, knowing we are going to have each other for the rest of our lives.
And we all smiled. With two of us wagging our tails......

Table for four. Party of six.

ps: Dedicated to the man that has taught me about receiving love. And to his daughter. 


Picture from Vogue Weddings


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