my uncle cris, my mom's younger brother, got married when i was 2 months old, about to turn 3. according to everyone that attended, i was an absolute fucking menace. in my memory, it was a sweaty, disorienting night with a lot of people that were wayyyy taller than me.
my mom kept a book of stories filled with all the insane shit i'd do and say as a toddler, so as it's written in this book, i spent the entire evening stealing disposable cameras off of people's tables, growling at guests, and rolling up and down the empty dance floor during dinner service.
as per my memory, it was a flood of gold decor and warm lighting, accompanied by faces of adults bending down to ask me questions before i decided to make a mad dash to the next table. it's not like i was stealthy with it either since i was a massive 2 year old. my mind hops from that to the dance floor suddenly being filled and begging my dad to dance with me (which was rlly just carrying me on his shoulders).
every in the family says this was one of the best parties ever for reasons i had no knowledge of (think tequila, tijuana nightclub after parties, pissing in hotel elevators). but in my memory, i thought it was the most glamorous, classy night to remember.
