Yesterday saw us set off on another adventure, although this one of a much more romantic type, some friends’ wedding. Weddings are lovely things and I have very many happy memories of being at friends’ weddings (as well as my own of course) most of these included much booze being imbued and no children to look after. I was also the designated driver – although not for the journey there as J wasn’t drunk that early and “isn’t a good passenger” so doesn’t like me to drive –so my day was to be an altogether sober one. Something I regretted from two minutes after getting into the car when the “Are we on the A66 yet?” questions started and I could have done with a stiff drink to get me through the next hour and half (see my post The Long and Whinging Road for the full pain of journeying with our children).
I was expecting the day to be a very painful one, I thought the kids would be like wild banshees as they hadn’t slept well the night before and the girl had only had a brief nap in the car on the way there – the boy never letting up on the road based questions enough for him to doze off.
I am big enough to admit, I was TOTALLY wrong. They both completely outdid themselves, they put on their biggest eyes, their cutest coy smiles and behaved impeccably. Even allowing the photographer to catch pictures of them both looking the same way and smiling, something that has become a mission impossible for ourselves. My husband did less well, I’d managed to forget how annoying he is when he’s had a drink and I’ve not – perhaps the low point in the day being when he suggested we take a turn around the gardens so the kids could let off some steam, forgetting I’d worn ridiculous heels that would sink into the mud and leave me stranded, as well as the fact I could barely walk in them, and when I did, looked like a man in drag, so unaccustomed am I to a heel.
However even that didn’t really dampen the day, as I had been very organised and also bought some flats with me, and so after a bit of sulking and pouting I changed my shoes and we headed outside to run about and collect some conkers (something that seems to be in very short supply near home).
The day was a complete success, the bride looked like a fairytale princess, much to the children’s delight, and the adoring glances between bride and groom, and a fantastic reading of Love Monkey by Edward Monkton (a poem I’ve never been lucky enough to hear before) were enough to bring a tear to my eye and warm the cockles of my grumpy old heart. The day was topped off by a bit of chair dancing for me and the boy to Meatloaf’s “Anything for Love” (the boy didn’t want to dance) before we got the kids jim-jammed up and into the car to head home. And, as if the day couldn’t get better, they both fell asleep with the first few miles. Bliss.
Today we were woken by the girl shouting, she’s attacked our long suffering cat – not yet brave enough to take on the one that bites back – and they’ve both been fighting over everything from who will hold which bit of the shopping trolley to who has the Woody fork at lunch. Oh and I’ve had to rescue J from the bathroom after he managed to lock himself in. Normal service has most definitely resumed.