“Mum?” I asked.
“How old should a pageboy be?”
“Any age.” Mum
said.
“But how old are they
usually?”
“About six or seven I
guess.” Mum replied. “Why?”
“Because when I tell
people that I'm going to be the pageboy at Natasha's wedding, they
keep saying I'm too old.” I told her, slumping my chin into my fist
and sighing. “...and if they're usually six or seven... then I'm
way too old.”
“You're only eleven.”
Mum replied.
“But I'll be twelve
when Natasha gets married.”
“You'll still be a
boy and that's the only qualification you need.” Mum smiled.
“You're going to look ever so smart.” she smiled.
“I don't even know
what I'm wearing yet.” I replied.
“Neither does Natasha
but she's still keen on a short suit of some sort.”
I puffed out my cheeks
and sighed. “So long as she doesn't make me wear white knee socks.”
I grumbled, recalling a potential outfit my sister showed me a while
back; a royal blue velvet waistcoat over a white shirt, with narrow
velvet knee length shorts. The waist coat and shorts looked pretty
bad but the boy modelling it also wore girls white knee socks and
shiny black shoes. I disapproved of the velvet outfit but detested
the girlie knee socks.
“It's Natasha's big
day so you'll wear what she chooses.” Mum reminded me. “Think
yourself lucky that she's not asking you to be a bridesmaid.”