A wedding veil!

My eyes bulged a little as I saw my daughter's hands emerge from the bag holding an old fashioned veil for a white wedding dress. "Here comes the bride!" she squealed.

"Oh, come on guys," I said. "Really?"

"Really!" my son said. "I'm the priest and Stacy's the flower girl."

"You're OK with this?" I said to Charissa, worried that this was getting a little too weird.

But she just smiled and laughed. "Sure, it's all in good fun," she said. "And anyway, I haven't dressed up as a bride since I was Stacy's age!!

She took my daughter's hand, and the two of them rushed from the room.

"You stand here," my son said, "next to me."

"Whatever you say, Father Pete." My son laughed, and I took my position. A minute later, Charissa re-entered the living room. It was a bizarre sight - this gorgeous 22-year-old wearing short shorts, a bright bikini, and a wedding veil. But I could tell she was smiling, so I went with it.

My son hummed the bridal chorus while Charissa took exaggerated, staggered steps down an imagined aisle. My daughter had grabbed some plastic flowers from her room and was scattering them behind Charissa as she walked. Finally, Charissa stood next to me, and we both faced the priest. Playing her part perfectly, Charissa took my left hand into her right.

I was focused on the warmth of her palm against mine as my son made up something about family and friends gathering here today and promises of lifelong fidelity in sickness and in health. I definitely paid attention, though, as he said, "Do you, Dad, take Charissa to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"Um," I said.

"What do you mean um?" Charissa chided.

"Yeah, come on, Daddy!" my daughter protested.

"Daaaad," my son said. "Do it right."

"OK, OK," I said. "Do it again."

He sighed--a bit louder than I thought was necessary--and repeated, "Do you, Dad, take Charissa to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," I said, having unwelcome flashbacks to my actual wedding but also still profoundly aware of Charissa's warm hand in mine.

"Good job," my son said. "And do you, Charissa, take Dad to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"Yep!" she said, but then when my son glared at her, she corrected herself. "I mean, I do."

"Then by the power invested in me, I pronounced you man and wife. You may kiss the bride!"

"Now come on!" I said.

"Daaaaaaaddy!" my daughter shouted. "You have to kiss the bride!"

"Well," Charissa said, pulling her veil away from her face. "You heard 'em." And with that, she leaned in and gave me a long, firm kiss right on my lips. The living room melted away as I closed my eyes, and my right hand instinctively wrapped around her waist and drew her close to me. Our lips parted for a moment, but I re-engaged, continuing the long, passionate kiss without any sense of time or place. In that instant, Charissa was my entire world.

What felt like ages was in reality about eight seconds, and my eyes flew open as we pulled apart. My kids didn't seem to think this was at all weird, and they shouted "Hooray!" and "Congratulations!" as my daughter strewed more flowers around the living room.

"Come on!" Charissa said, pulling from the living room. We walked back down the imaginary aisle to the dining room while my children cheered.

When we had gotten a short distance from the kids, I asked, "Was that OK?"

"Yeah, of course," she said, pulling her veil off. "I mean, it was for me. I thought it was fun! Was it OK for you?"

"Yeah!" I said, a little too loudly. "I mean, I had fun, too."

Charissa's eyes twinkled as she smiled. "Wait till you see what the last surprise is," she said.

"Uh oh," I joked as we walked back into the living room.