Tux pressed to perfection, hair combed just so,
the top hat completes my dapper outfit.
Dad looks at me through the viewfinder
and tells me to smile.
I know he wants me to look adorable
for the photo albums,
but this black fabric has enlightened me.

The wedding has transformed:
now a meeting of evil villains, spies, and espionage.
Guests must be scrutinized,
their every move monitored from the stair landing.
I assess the danger they pose,
and pounce.

The attack is swift and calculated,
my short arms grasp their legs in a strong hug.
If they try and reciprocate, they’re a foe.
If no hug is returned, they must be a friend.
Unnecessary human contact is avoided at all costs.

The gathering ends and the attendees filter out.
I get in the car and remove the hat and jacket,
feeling like a normal child again, albeit a tired one.
No more surveillance for today, it’s time for a nap.