Max cried at our wedding

We watched the DVD of our wedding over the weekend. I had to keep a box of tissues handy—for Max. He sobbed the entire time.

At first, we thought he was sad that he had missed out (it was a good party).

"Max!" said Sabrina. "You wouldn't have liked it! It was loud!"

Dave decided Max was sad because he didn't want to imagine a time when he didn't exist. Later, when I told my mom that she said, "It's a good thing he didn't exist at your wedding!"

As weepy as Max was, he kept watching. I haven't seen the DVD for several years, and I got sad at times, too—when I saw my dad, who died three years ago. When I saw Karen, a friend who passed away five years ago, leaving behind three kids. When I saw Dave's friend Larry, a father of twins who died in December.

Yet I loved seeing how blissed out we were and listening to the amazing toasts my mom, sister and friends gave. I enjoyed seeing us all dancing. Also: It was 13 years ago, and Dave and I didn't look that much older. (Nobody disagree, k?)

Max kept wailing. He'd stop for a few minutes, then something would happen—Dave and I had our first dance ("The Way You Look Tonight"), we cut the cake—and he'd burst into tears again.

Both kids seemed perplexed by the bit of advice my friend Sharon spoke into the video camera: "Wait to have kids! Have fun!"

Finally, Max decided he'd had enough, and we headed upstairs so I could tuck him in. He was still sniveling.

"So, who would you like to marry when you grow up?" I asked.

He pointed to me.

Ah.