Wednesday, June 22

Down on the Farm

Once upon a time, I was a cool person. Not the hippest. Not the most cutting edge. But I had a cool life. And now? Now I can go on vacation at a quaint farm, be in a room with six adults--writers, musicians, and generally interesting grown-ups--and when I walk outside the farm and see a cat, I exclaim in a falsetto, "Look, a kitty cat!" I then turn to the innkeeper and ask, "Does the kitty cat live inside?" Need I say my son is nowhere in sight? "Kitty cat"? Not once, but twice. In my mommy voice. Bleah.

Anyway, this past weekend we attended the nuptials of Ms. Bear and the Dave Man at Celebrity Dairy in Siler City, North Carolina. I was wary of Doodles at the wedding, but it turned out great. He didn't make it through the ceremony--when the farm dog ran through, just as the bride and groom made their way down the outdoor aisle, he began to shout, "Hey Rocky! Rocky! Down, down. Hey Rocky!"--and he ended up sitting with Adam on a porch swing in the back singing, which those of us in the back rows could definitely hear, but he was on great behavior the rest of the time.

At the rehearsal dinner, his sandal broke, so he got to run around a Chapel Hill bar barefoot. When he begged Adam for some beer ("Beer! Beer! Beer!"), Adam complied and Doodles had his first taste of alcohol other than the few sips of wine he sucked off a gauze at his own bris. Doodles, I'm happy to say, was not a fan. He made an evil face, although that didn't stop him from asking for more.

At the hotel, Doodles kept himself entertained playing with the piano, letting a much older woman (over three!) lead him around, and chasing the farm chickens and dogs. The wedding was populated with many baby-crazy people (men and women) who not only tolerated Doodles, but humored him.

At the reception, when Mr. and Mrs. Bear serenaded the guests, Doodles and his older woman led the way in dancing, doing a little shake, shake, walk, shake, shake, walk, shake, shake, walk around the tables. Then the two had some energetic rounds of Ring Around the Rosie. We learned that Doodles is a big fan of bluegrass music and we even let him stay up late to listen to an impromptu Celtic music session.

And I had a blast because Adam volunteered to stay with Doodles in the room, so I could stay out late with the big kids. At the post-wedding bonfire, I ate too much cake, roasted marshmallows, and for the first time didn't mind being the only sober person, because everyone else's lips were loosened by the tequila and bourbon, and I got enough dirt on people to make for material for some really fun short stories. Of course, after a rousing evening of rowdy-making, I returned to my room exhausted to discover it was a whopping 11 p.m. So much for my late night out.

Usually these days when we travel with Doodles, I look forward to the vacation and the minute we arrive, I can't wait to get back home. But the company was so great, the farm so relaxing (the German fruit pancake was heavenly), and Doodles in such good spirits that I actually didn't want to leave. For the first time that we were away, I thought, "Damn! I don't want to go home!" The feeling, though, didn't last. As soon as we got on the plane, Doodles started screaming and he didn't let up until we landed.

But it was great. Best wedding we've attended. And Doodles? He's still asking for Rocky.

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