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Having 5 kids means I get a lot of "I don't know how you do it" or variations thereof. My typical response is that "my life will never be dull." 5 kids means five constantly moving parts, and even when you think you've covered all your bases and planned all contingencies, that's when life gives you something to ensure a lack of dullness.
Back in late January of last year, my sister got married. I was honored to be one of the Groomsmen, and she also asked if my oldest two boys (8 and 6) would bring up the gifts during the ceremony. My family is Catholic, and she opted to have a full Mass with the wedding ceremony. Bringing up the gifts during a Catholic Mass is pretty simple:
1) Go to the back of the Church at the appropriate time.
2) Have someone hand you something to bring to the altar.
3) Bring said "thing" to the altar.
4) Return to seat.
My boys are smart, responsible kids, and I had full confidence that this wouldn't be a problem.
Now I should point out two things before continuing on. The first is that during this particular January, blizzard warnings were in effect. The second is that my sister opted to get married in an old, historic church in downtown Philadelphia where she had lived the last 10+ years. A beautiful old church that was about 5-10 minute walk from the hotel we were staying at.
Ok, one additional piece of information is that there was SOMETHING else going on in Philadelphia that day. I couldn't tell you what it was, but it turned traffic in center city Philly into a nightmare. My wife (5 months pregnant with our 5th child) was driving the 4 boys to Philly and was caught in the traffic jam that surrounded the venue. I had gotten into town the night before for the rehearsal dinner, but we thought it would be best if she brought the boys down the day of. Now, my wife is not familiar with Philly, the GPS wasn't helping, and we were in the "Taking Pictures" part of the pre-wedding festivities so things were a bit chaotic. Full respect is due to my now Brother-in-Law who took time out from his own wedding pictures to try and talk my wife into the hotel parking lot. Long story short, she made it to the church with the kids just about the same time the ceremony was supposed to start and sat in the back of the church with my youngest (2 1/2 year old) son. The others sat in the second row of the Bride's side with Grandma and Grandpa.
Being a Groomsman, during the ceremony I sat in the front row of the Groom's side and did my job by trying to look respectable in a tux, and otherwise simply try to not screw anything up. As the time approached to bring up the gifts, it occurred to me that my parents were probably wrapped up in watching their little girl get married, and that no one was thinking about directing my boys regarding the previously described steps 1-4. I discreetly slid to the end of my pew, walked all the way around the back of the church, and back up the opposite side of the church so I could wave my oldest 2 to come with me for the presentation of the gifts. My 3rd son (5 at the time), wanting to know where his brothers were going and emphatically whispered "I want to go too!" He was dressed up and also well behaved. Why not? As I ushered the 3 kids to the back of the church, my wife smiled at us just as youngest, seeing all of us obviously getting ready to do something, started getting upset "ME too!" I quickly picked him up, and handed the gifts to the oldest two just in time to process down the main aisle to the altar. Admittedly, it was a pretty cool sight (and my sister later told me it was the only time she cried during the ceremony): My oldest two looking serene and holding the Eucharist and wine leading the way with me holding my youngest son (#4) in my arms and the 5-year old's (#3) hand following behind them.
What she didn't know was that halfway down the aisle, #3 tugged on my hand and whispered, (yup, you guessed it) "Dad, I have to use the bathroom." I whispered back asking "can you wait a few minutes." He gave me a very serious nod back and we continued our trek to the altar.
The gifts now delivered, I walked the oldest 2 back to Grandma and Grandpa, dropped the little guy off with mom and whispered I was taking #3 to the bathroom. One minor detail: Remember how I mentioned it was a beautiful OLD church. Well, the only lavatory facility in the building was in the Sacristy, which is located behind, and only accessible via, the altar. Ugh. I quickly brought my son downstairs to the chapel area to see if there was another restroom anywhere down there. No luck. There was only one place I KNEW I could find a restroom: The Hotel. I walked outside the church just in time for the snow to start falling, picked up my son telling him "Hold on!" and started to run. I sprinted back to the hotel a few blocks away and made a bee-line for the restrooms in the lobby.
Thankfully, my son concluded his business quickly and after a quick hand washing, was back in my arms sprinting back to the church. Now I can only imagine what I looked like sprinting down the streets of Philadelphia, in snow flurries, wearing a tuxedo, son in my arms, boutineer petals flying in my wake. Halfway back to the church, as I dodged around a hot pretzel cart, someone from an upper storied of a building I passed yelled out "Dude! You look EPIC!"
I returned to the church and deposited my now-empty son next to my wife who gave me a quizzical look likely due to the time I was gone and the fact that I panting and sweating like Secratariat after the Kentucky Derby. I just smiled at her and tried to discreetly walk back down a side aisle to the front of the church for the remainder of the wedding ceremony (I apparently hadn't missed anything requiring a Groomsman). As I finally sat back down, another Groomsman looked at me, streaming sweat, leaned over and asked "You OK, what happened?" Me: "Took my son to the bathroom" Him: "There are no bathrooms in the church." Me: "Yeah. I know."
My sister's wedding was beautiful, but I have to admit that as the years go by I'll likely remember presenting the gifts with my 4 boys, and being labeled as "EPIC" in the City of Brotherly Love.
