The Kids Table — Day 4

Today's prompt from Lisa Romeo is "The Kid's Table." So many thoughts come rushing in over those words — first the hysterical "Friends" episode where Ross has to dance with all the little girls at the kids table (who all want to stand on his feet) so he can impress a girl. My first idea was to write from a kid's point of view, but I kind of liked the voice of the bride on the Day 1 prompt (with pleasure), so that's where I'm starting. 10 minutes — go.

Prompt: The Kids Table

We had our wedding shower yesterday and it was so beautiful. Katie did not come (thank god), but sent a note that said her gift would arrive soon. Who does that? Her mom was there, though, and it was a bit awkward. I know she and my mom talk all the time, and I really love Jean, but it's hard to talk to her and avoid the subject of Katie.

The biggest surprise of the day (other than Aunt Fran's gift — more on that later) was little Janie. Only, now she's not-so-little Janie. She's a senior in high school now and just magnificent. I remember her as kind of a tomboy, so it was quite a shock to see this tall, poised young woman with a lovely dress and red lipstick! She looked more put together than I did.

You can so tell that Janie is Lacey's granddaughter. Side-by-side, even though Janie towers over Lacey, you can see the resemblance. It's not so much that they look alike, it's really a matter of how they carry themselves — ramrod straight posture, feet posed like a starlet on the red carpet, perfectly coiffed and accessorized. Lacey must be in her late 70s by now and she is still stunning. Maybe it's the cheek bones. They both have marvelous bone structure — strong, yet some how delicate and feminine at the same time. Lucky Janie — she'll probably never need a face lift.

The three other little girls looked so cute in their party dresses. The twins are almost 7, both blonde, one curly, one straight. And baby Amanda will turn five the day before the wedding. They absolute worship Janie, who was kind and gave them attention, but you could see that she was dying to be considered a part of the adult conversation.

Now I don't know what to do. I can't stick Janie at the kids table. Oh, to be 18 again, and trying on all those adult personas. She'll feel ridiculous if she has to spend the whole reception sitting with the little kids. Hmm, where to put her? I can't put her with Nate's cousins — those rowdy frat boys. I can't believe he's from the same family. They would probably eat her alive. No, maybe not. I bet Janie could hold her own. Still, those morons are more immature than the little girls. Maybe I should put them at the kids table. 

I'll have to talk to Nate about this, although he still thinks we should let people sit wherever they want. Clearly, he does not know my dad's side of the family. A good thing, too, or he'd go running for the hills leaving me stranded at the altar. 

Time:  11 minutes. Maybe I should just call this the 11 minute writing series, since I never seem able to stop at 10. I need a timer with an alarm.

Do you remember that time between childhood and adulthood. My daughter is there right now. I remember feeling so flattered when the adults (especially the young adults) included me. The gossip was so seductive. Then the older relatives made you feel like a stupid little kid again, asking all the same questions over and over: What grade are you in? Where are you applying to school? It was a heady time, walking that fine line before tripping over it into grownup land.