My God son and his brother were recently in a fashion show at Nordstrom's, and even though it was at the inconvenient hour of 9:30 a.m. on a rainy Sunday morning, I managed to attend. The place was filled with very young models, dressed to the nines in coloful Easter outfits, taking the whole experience very seriously. Mark and Nolin, left to their own choice, choose the all-out casual, Adidas soccer look, that was more appropriate for their lifestyle of blood and guts.
They did a decent job, to the surprise of those who know them, and the stage remained intact. But as the whole group took their final lap around the runway, all hell broke loose. Mark, the oldest, happened to fall flat on his stomach (probably premeditated) and as he was lying there, grabbed his younger brother's leg as he walked by, bringing him to the ground, also. Since Nolin did not appreciate being tackled while he was making his modeling debut, a fight broke out. Next thing you know, the two of them are lying in the middle of the runway, hitting each other. Luckily, it didn't even phase the two dozen mini-models, who were seriously in training for America's Next Top Model. They all continued their victory lap, totally ambivalent to the altercation going on. Everybody in the audience was laughing hysterically, except for their mortified parents.
The woman who was in charge of the fashion show, ran out and broke it up, probably wishing there was champagne in the orange juice they were serving. All this occurred while their new 4-week-old brother, Luke, was sound asleep in his high tech stroller, far from the madding crowd. He has no idea what is in store for him in two years, when he joins the entourage.