Went to a wedding this past Friday. Mother-in-law's, actually (well, eventual mother-in-law anyway), and it wasn't too bad. Spent way too much time wondering if I was being mailbombed while I sat there making small talk with a few people (well, trying to anyway...I don't do well at familial events as it is...and I forgot to take off my nailpolish, woops). Infringed on my good time. But that's not important (and I wasn't bombed, by the way, this time).
The reception was nice. Food was decent. Bar was open (WOO!) and there was quite a bit of coffee which, needless to say, I enjoyed quite happily after stealthily commandeering and stealing from another table an entire full carafe. ;)
It was the first dance of the reception, you know the one. "Presenting Mr. & Mrs. Whosiewhatsits in their first dance together as husband and wife." And they did...quite well actually. For a few moments the band's horrible nature was forgotten. Then the maid of honor & best man did the same. There was only one other person left on the wedding party...it was a small wedding partie as most weddings go. That person was my stepdaughter, 7-yr-old going on 16, Sophia. And there was nobody to dance with her.
So she stood there on the side of the dancefloor...just watching. Everyone else seated around (it's the wedding parties' dance after all). Looking rather forlorn. Being rather uneasy at social functions and worrying about my current possible mailbombing situation, it was Laura who pointed it out to me. And the vision pained me. Poor girl, seven years old, just standing there by herself in a pretty dress. :(
So I fixed it. I got up and walked through a crowd of people I don't know save a few, took her hand, and danced with her. The forlorn expression gone, the twinkling eyes...and it was probably one of the best dances I had the pleasure of having.