the big (not fat) italian wedding

A.’s cousin who lives in the Bay area turned to me and said with a big smile, “You ever been to a Guido wedding before?”

I laughed. No, no, not like this.

We were in Queens at a 250-person reception Saturday for A.’s other cousin (A. has a lot of cousins). And I was in the ballroom trying to soak it all in — the flashing lights, the sparkling chandeliers, the thick New York accents, the tight dresses and high heels, the music videos of Adele, the shots of tequila and coffee that were delivered every five minutes to our table. The ballroom was lined with mirrors and the bride and groom sat on 15-foot gold thrones when they weren’t dancing or touring the tables to say hello.

We had our pick of at least 10 entrees — the servers asked us our choice from the menu as we sat down to the table. I chose the sea bass, but there was salmon, osso buco, steak, chicken. First we had salad and then risotto and pasta and finally, our entrée appeared after 11 p.m. (I had no idea it was that late, it was like being in Vegas.)

Between courses, the dance music pumped like we were at a club. A.’s parents shimmied on the dance floor. I was so impressed how they moved together — A.’s dad said he can only dance with A.’s mom, who’s “like an old shoe.”

The big surprise was how well C. handled the noise and chaos. The boy took a long afternoon nap — and then stayed up till we left at midnight. (We left before the dessert bar of cookies and gelato and cakes). C. was fascinated with the lights. A. wore him in the carrier most of the evening, giving him breaks from the noise to roll around on the couches in the foyer. I nursed him three times and danced with him to “Runaway” as he giggled. And then, in the hour-long car ride back to N.J., he passed out.

He was whiny yesterday in the car ride home and we had to stop three times when he started screaming. Turns out, nothing was wrong — he just wanted out of the car seat. It was our punishment for having a star at the reception. (A. said, “Uh oh, we’re screwed, now we have to start parenting.” I said, “Happy Father’s Day!”)

Now, it’s Monday morning and we’re exhausted. C. slept 12 hours last night and is napping. It’s rainy and gloomy and all I want to do is lie on the couch and read and recover. I think I’ll do that.

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