With just two weeks to go, things are getting stressful. Following the band cancellation, we were told that the venue was ALMOST shut down by the council, and the florist is currently not answering my emails or phone calls. The latest? The organist has broken his arm. This was unceremoniously announced in an email on Saturday, which hit my Blackberry just as we were about to get into the cab to attend a friend's wedding.
The wedding this weekend was particularly bad for this insane bride-to-be behaviour. It was a wedding in the depths of the country, there was a pretty church, there was a reception in a barn. So far so similar to our own plans. In the cab on the way to the church, Jon and I had discussed how important it is to absorb everything and to scrupulously analyse what works, what doesn't. Rightly or wrong, it was kind of like a dry run for our own wedding two weeks later.
And then we got blown out of the water. It happened during the groom's speech when he was doing the classic thank yous. After handing out several bunches of flowers to the bridesmaids he said to the mother of the bride. "I was going to get you a bunch of flowers, but we thought this would be better". He handed her a card containing an ultrasound scan of the newlywed's soon-to-be-born baby. The couple had kept this secret from their whole family and decided that they'd announced their new at the wedding reception. It is amazing, surprising, wonderful news. And executed in a jaw-dropping manner reserved only for romantic comedies and soaps.
But after the fluster of excitement and congratulations Jon and I look at each other a little crestfallen. How the hell are we going to top that in two weeks time?
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