The little guy with the bandage on his head is my oldest nephew, Andrew. The occasion was our wedding, and Andrew was the ring bearer.
The night before the wedding we had a rehearsal dinner at a rather nice restaurant with all our out-of-town guests in attendance. It was quite a party. Andrew was hanging out by the bar with his little brother, Keith, and 2nd cousin, Julian, although they all swore they weren't drinking.
A little playing around got a little out of hand, and a bar stool came toppling down onto little Andrew. Lots of blood, sirens, paramedics, and a trip to the emergency room followed.
The next morning, as we were getting set for the wedding ceremony to begin, we all sat down with Andrew and said, "It's okay. You had a rough night last night. If you don't want to carry the rings Uncle Steve will take them for you."
"No, this is important for you, Uncle Ken and Aunt Leslie. I want to do it."
It's now 17 years later. He still has a scar on his forehead. And he's getting married this Saturday.
We live in California, his wedding is in Connecticut. Because of work obligations we cannot make a real vacation of going east for the wedding. Instead, we will leave Friday morning, travel all day, and arrive at the airport in Connecticut about 1/2-an-hour before his rehearsal dinner, but we will make it. The wedding is Saturday, then we'll fly home Sunday and be back at work Monday morning.
It's a crazy trip to make: crossing country for a single day's activities. Too much travel time, too expensive, not enough time to visit with people back east. Ridiculous!
But Andrew got a life-long scar for our wedding. This is the least we could do in return, after all, it is important for him.
(This story is cross-posted to Cowbird)