We’re terrible. We have no sense of decorum. These are some of the sentences my family has laid upon itself.

Of course those are hyperbolic. We’re not that bad. We are not malicious and we do not vandalize. But we can appreciate funny when we see it, and we might not be able to control our laughter.

Looking back, we were particularly feisty at weddings. All rituals seemed alien to us, but at weddings Mom was happy, the occasion was joyous, and tolerance was broader.

Dad was our ringleader. Mom never seemed to think things were as humorous as he did. She was more likely to grimace, hush us, or pretend she was actually seated with others.

The first riotous wedding memory I’ll describe was when my cousin S married T. It was around 1970, summertime in Burbank, in my aunt’s back yard. I remember her house was directly below a flight path to the airport; the occasion was overwhelmed at regular intervals by low-flying planes on landing approach.

The ceremony took place toward the rear of the small yard. There were rows of folding chairs facing the fence, and tables laid with food and champagne were set near the house. On the way to our seats Dad decided to be helpful. He untwisted the wires around each champagne cork, so the bubbly would be easily available after the ceremony. Even now I believe his intention was pure.

It was a hot day and the vows went longer than we expected. Shortly before the bride and groom became husband and wife, the champagne started popping. Bottle after bottle released its cork straight into the air. As loud as gunshots.

But the best was yet to come. Several years later a different cousin S married E. This was in San Francisco. The rabbi had a speech impediment. I’m not making this up; the man spoke like Elmer Fudd. He referred to himself as the “wabbi” and to the young couple as “bwide” and “bwidegwoom.” My father and brothers and I exchanged smiles, began to snicker silently, showed eyes shining with tears of suppressed laughter.

We did okay at first. We were pulling it off. Then the wabbi suggested that the couple exchange wedding wings. Starting with Andy and cascading upward with age, we lost it.