You'd never think they'd just put their mothers through the ringer would you? There's no hint in this picture of the snapping, snarling hot mess we'd all been in just moments before?
Compliance is not my daughters' strong point at the best of times, but pulled from the river and scrubbed up and forced to have their hair brushed and their toes cleaned somehow made them extra surly and horrendous.
When the bride pulled up to the cottage where we were dressing the girls, 15 minutes earlier than expected, the Landrover brimming with bridesmaids and flowers and parasols, we were horrified.
We still had two plaits to go, a bunch of silver tattoos to adhere, at least one child in tears and I'd just discovered I'd only packed a hot pink bra to wear under my cream and black dress!
But cheerful and calm they all rolled out the Landie and into the house, picking up hairbrushes and crumpled dresses and tearful children as they went, chatting and laughing and infecting us all with their joy and laughter.
I looked up to see my new sister-in-law, resplendent in white cotton, smiling the biggest smile in the world, as cool and lovely as the simple jewels round her neck ... it was going to be the most beautiful wedding.
It really, really was.
My little brother, the youngest of us three, happy and wed to the most perfect girl in the world for him.
I can think of nothing nicer.