Lack of knowledge

It was the first tuxedo I'd ever worn, the shiny black lapels glimmered to compliment the bright red tie and cummerbund. I sat in the back of the church, not knowing what to expect, but a bit nervous. My Uncle Timmy, who is only fifteen years older than me, came up and said, "Don't lock your knees while up onstage. An old navy trick for standing at attention."

What?

I didn't want to ask him what he meant, "okay," I said.

My grandfather came up to me, placed his hand on my shoulder and said, "if you get nervous just look at me I'll be in the front row. And while you're standing up there - don't lock your knees."

"Okay, grandpa. Thanks."

What is this locking your knees business? How do you lock your knees? I didn't know, but was certain that I would not do what ever it was.

The crowd made their way to their seats while shaking hands and giving hugs to friends and family. I was told it was almost time to get started, so I followed the other groomsmen to line up in the narthex. I got ready to walk the aisle with my sister on my arm.

"Don't forget, don't lock your knees," said my soon to be stepfathers cousin Marty.

Alright, alright, I won't do what ever it is you're talking about!

I found my place on the stage and awaited the song signifying my mother would be walking down the aisle. I saw her come through the door with my grandfather. She was beautiful, and my grandfather was perfectly handsome. I hoped to be just like him when I grew up.

When he found his seat next to my grandmother in the front row, he smiled and winked at me. I returned his smile and scanned the crowd.

The next thing I remember I was being carried out of the church and set down on the curb by my grandfather. He leaned over and chuckled, "you locked your knees."

Throughout the reception as color came back into my face I was constantly asked if I was okay and my response with a smile was, "I just fainted so my mom didn't have to."