Tribute to Trate AKA Tying the Knot

Yesterday I drove to VA with my husband and daughter to attend the wedding of one of my best friends, Trate (I don't know how he would feel about having his name out in cyberspace, so I used his nickname). Now, Trate has known me since the day I was born. He was a whopping six months old when I came into the world, and his mom (my mom's best friend) brought him to the hospital to meet me, and our other best friend, Havoc (once again, a nickname), who was born two days earlier to mom's other best friend. It was trouble from the first.
We moved away when I was a baby, and it wasn't until I was 4 years old that we were reunited and our days and the terrible threesome began. I don't remember much about those early years, but I am sure there were many shared ice cream cones, baths, and time-outs. Here is what I do remember:

The time we built a fort in Trate's basement and watched "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles". We laid a lamp down to provide minimal lighting, because I was on a watch-tv-in-the-dark-and-you'll-go-blind kick. About 15 minutes into the movie, I told Trate I smelled pizza. He said it was the subliminal messaging of the movie, that it was all in my head. A little while later I told him I swore I smelled pizza, so he got up and walked around the house to confirm that there was, in fact, no pizza in the house. When he returned to the fort, he noticed a curl of smoke rising from the floor under the lamp. He pulled it up, and to our dismay, found that the light bulb had burned all the way through to the base board. The hole was about the size of a silver dollar, but right smack in the middle of the floor. We were so scared his dad would spank us, so we cleaned up the fort and put my mom's suitcase over the hole. After a night of no sleeping, we finally fessed up to our mom's the next day. Trate's mom started yelling. She was so happy she finally had a valid reason to replace "that horrible blue carpet". I still count myself lucky to get out of that one unscathed.

My sister's wedding reception, AKA the birth of Fifi and Lulu. I still can't remember which is right and which is left, I guess that's something you and MAK can figure out for yourselves!

The Thanksgiving of the Hairy Banshees. Trate, Havoc, and I donned ski masks and super soakers, snuck into the kitchen, and made off with with a whole pumpkin pie and a carton of eggnog, and a can of Reddi-Whip. We didn't feel so good after that trip.

Trate was on the swim team in high school. I still can't figure out how his shaved legs stayed smoother longer than mine. Amazing. MAK, in case you never get the chance to see them, Trate has some beautiful legs when shaved.

Many, many, many hours playing SEGA.

Nimrod, the three-legged Golden Retriever.

The night we hid behind the electric box in his backyard and played the kissing game. We rolled a dice, and if a 1 or a 4 was rolled, Trate got to pick who he kissed, me or Havoc. If a 2 or 5 was rolled, I got to kiss Trate. If a 3 or 6 was rolled, Havoc got to kiss Trate. Looking back now, I realize Trate really got a good deal out of that game. When it got too dark outside, we went in and hid in his closet. His older sister caught us kissing in the closet and told the 'rents. That put an end to the festivities, fast.

Our senior year, I didn't have a date to my Winterfest Dance, so Trate came down with his mom and he took me to the dance. After the dance, the couple we rode with decided they wanted to stop at a park to make out. So here we were, in the middle of nowhere at some random park with no lights sitting on the end of a dock listening to my friends macking behind the boat shed. Now, one might think, after reading the previous story, that Trate and I would be more than happy to make out on the dock. However, our kissing only happened during games and never, ever involved tongue (I promise!). So, we made our way to the playground and waited for the make-out session to conclude. We were lucky there wasn't an axe murderer in the woods, or that guy with a hook for a hand from that scary story we told when we were kids. All of us made it home safely. Eventually. The next day we went to the zoo. That was a lot more fun.

One of Trate's things was to pick me up and spin me around when he saw me after a long time apart. When I got married, it had been about six months since we had seen each other. So there I am, in my wedding gown, standing in the receiving line, shaking hands and hugging people I had never met, when Trate is suddenly there, looming over me. He bends over, wraps his arms around my waist, and lifts about two feet off the ground. When I finally put me down, he moved on to my husband, who was staring at us with his mouth open, and picks him up too. We have a great picture of that. That didn't happen yesterday. I don't think he could lift his arms in that tux. (BTW Trate, you looked awesome!)

Finally, Trate got married. I talked to him last October and he was telling me about all the girls that liked him for his friendship, and he was never going to find a girl who wanted to be serious with him. Then, this spring, I hear he will be married. Turns out he and the girl he went to the junior prom with got together again. I had never met her, had only seen pictures of her when we were in high school. I finally got to meet MAK yesterday at the wedding. She is beautiful, she is funny, she is nice. Perfect. The ceremony was short (thank goodness, it was HOT!), the reception a blast, and the whipped cream/toilet paper decorations on the car were awesome. A wonderful day for a wonderful couple.

So, congratulations you two. Happy Birthday to your family. I hope I get to see you again before 5 years go by this time. I love you Trate, and MAK, since you married him, I love you too.