“Hey!” I whisper-yell.  They both cease all movement and turn to stare at me.  “What are you doing?!”

Gavin shoves with all of his might and Melissa  tumbles off of him.  He scrambles up, grabbing his fallen ring bearer pillow and clutching it to his chest.

“She freaking hell took my pillow!  Stupid punk!” Gavin says loudly.

“He kicked me in my no-no-zone!” Melissa complains with a stomp of her foot.

“Oh my,” Mrs. Gates mutters.

“You should eat dirt!” Gavin turns and yells at Melissa.

“I will NOT eat dirt!” she counterattacks.

“EAT IT WITH YOUR CHICKEN FACE!”

It's complete and utter child anarchy and before I can pick a kid to yell at, the organ music changes and begins playing the song that I needed to walk down the aisle to with Gavin and Melissa right behind me.

I quickly bend down in front of both of them and stare them square in the face with as stern of an expression as I can muster.

“Both of you little monsters, listen up.  As soon as you step foot out of those doors, you better have smiles on your faces and your outside voices duct taped inside your bodies.  If you speak, push, shove, swear, argue, or even blink at each other I will haul your asses out of that church and lock you in the basement with the scary clowns.”

I huff to emphasize my point and stand, tugging up the front of my strapless dress.

“If I see a clown, I’m going to punch him in the nuts.”

“Gavin Allen!” I scold.

“What?  We didn’t step fru dose doors yet,” he argues, pointing behind me.

“Kid has a point,” Liz whispers.

“Behave,” I whisper through clenched teeth as I turn and nodded to the two church attendants so they can open the double doors for my entrance.

“My mom’s not afraid to punch a kid,” I hear Gavin whisper to Melissa as I take my first step down the aisle.

Thankfully, my threat pays off and both kids make it to the front of the church without killing each other.  The ceremony is beautiful and the only interruption came during communion.

Liz is Catholic so she had wanted a full, Roman Catholic service.  Carter is a “sort-of” Catholic in that he was baptized, made his First Communion and everything else he was required to do while growing up, but he only goes to church for holidays, weddings, and funerals.  Regardless, when it comes time for communion, he gets in line and takes Gavin with him since Gavin is on his side of the church through the ceremony.

I really don’t believe in any one religion, but I have been known to sit in on a few services every once in a while just in case someone up there is taking notes.  I sit in my seat in the front row with one other bridesmaid who isn’t Catholic and we watch the procession and smile at those who walk by.  I crane my neck and watch happily as Carter holds Gavin’s hand while he stands in front of the priest and receives his little Jesus wafer.  In the quiet serenity of the process, with only the beautiful sounds of the organ to fill the silence, Gavin’s voice bursts through the tranquility.

“Whatchu got in your mouth?”

I bite my lip and cringe at how easily Gavin’s voice carries through the church.  Carter bends over and whispers something to Gavin as they turn and start to walk back to their seats in the front row on the opposite side of the church from me.

“GIMMEE WHATCHU GOT IN YOUR MOUTH!”

I cover my eyes with my hand but not before seeing Gavin try to shove his little hand into Carter’s mouth.  Carter smacks his hand away and as they both sit down, Carter pulls his cell phone out of the pants pocket of his tux and hands it over to Gavin.  His face lights up with glee as he snatches the phone out of Carter’s hand and sits down quietly next to him.  Obviously, Carter is quickly learning that as a parent, nothing works quite as well as bribery.  Seconds later the opening notes from Angry Birds blare through the soft din of organ music, and Carter quickly grabs the phone from Gavin to silence the sounds while Gavin yells, “Heeeey!  I was playing that!”

The ceremony finally ends and we spend the next couple of hours getting pictures taken.  Before I know it, we are finishing up dinner at the reception and the wait staff begin clearing tables.  As part of the wedding party, we are all seated at the long head-table at the front of the room.  It’s always fun to sit facing a group of two hundred strangers so they can watch you eat.

Carter takes his seat next to me after a quick trip to the bathroom, and I noticed he was rubbing his shoulder in pain.

“What happened?”

“I passed Jenny and Drew on the way back from the bathroom.  She wanted to know if I loved the Balsa McChicken we had for dinner,” Carter explains with a raise of one eyebrow.

“I take it you told her it’s called balsamic chicken?”

“No.  I asked her if that was something new McDonald’s was serving on their menu with the McRib.  Drew punched me.”

I glance around the room until I find my father and see him getting up from his table.  He offers to head out early and take Gavin home with him as soon as he gets tired.  I look at the chair next to me where Gavin is currently asleep on his stomach with his head, arms, and legs dangling down towards the floor.

“No, I didn’t club him like a baby seal,” I assure my dad as he puts his hands on the table and leans over it to get a look at his grandson.

“Your mother is starting to tell people about Tee Time.  I think that’s my cue to leave,” my dad tells me as I stand with Carter while he scoops Gavin up into his arms and passes him off to my dad.

“What’s Tee Time?” Carter asks as we watch Gavin sigh and snuggle his face into my dad’s shoulder, muttering something about flashlights and donkey kicks.

My dad smiles evilly at Carter and then looks at me. “I’ll leave you two to discuss the Rachel Morgan Tee Time tradition.”

We say our good-byes and as the reception hall door closes behind them, my mother’s voice comes over the microphone’s speaker.

“TEE TIME!  IT’S TEE TIME!  Everyone meet over by the bar in five minutes!”

I close my eyes and sigh as I hear Jim let out an excited yell and jump up from his seat.

When I open my eyes, Carter is watching as a crowd of about twenty people, led by Jim, walk over to the bar.

“What is going on?”

“Carter!  Now that you are part of this family, it’s time you learned about the grand old tradition that is Tee Time,” my mother exclaims as she pushes her way between us and grabs both of our arms to leads us to the bar.  “This is an age old ritual that my family performs at every wedding to ensure the married couple lives a long, happy life together and that all of their ups and downs are in the bedroom.”

Jim stands by the bar, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement as we made our way up to him.

“Mrs. Morgan!  What’s our first order of business at this Tee Time gathering?” he asks with a big grin.

“I do believe whiskey is the first on the agenda tonight, my handsome groom,” she replies with a smack to his ass as she waves someone over from another table.

“Hold on, wait just a second!” Liz’s mom yells as she comes running up to us.  “The cake needs to be cut, and you still haven’t done the first dance and the photographer still needs-”

My mom steps in front of Mary’s path and puts her hand up to stop her from getting any closer to Jim.

“Mary, dear, you look stressed.  When was the last time you used the bullet I gave you for your birthday last year and gave yourself a nice, big orgasm?”

My mother, after having dealt with Mary Gates for enough years, knows exactly how to divert her attention onto something else.  It's nice to see her focusing on someone else’s sex life for once.  With Mary sputtering and at a loss for words, the wedding reception checklist is forgotten.

“I have to say, I’m a little bit astounded by the fact that you were still a virgin the night we met.  How is it possible your mother never bought you a male hooker for your birthday?” Carter asks.