Well, Son is now securely married and I really hope he has a much better one than I did. I think he will.
Everything went well, nothing got messed up, I was still forbidden to give a speech but told everyone what would have been in it anyway. They all agreed with Son that banning my speech was a very good idea. I find this surprising and unfair, but what can I do? Publish it? Oh wait..
A good time was had by all. There was no fighting and no unpleasantness of any kind. The food was excellent and the booze plentiful but expensive. We expected this so we all took hip flasks to top up between buying occasional drinks at prices that made wallets scream.
I spent most of the evening in the company of a buxom wench (BG is aware of who and why, knows there was no naughtiness and has seen the photo) and Wife was there too. I was cordial if a little wary, but nothing happened to spoil the day. Which was a relief.
Anyhow, I decided against posting wedding photos. I’d have to get the permission of everyone in them and if someone found them here and was upset, I’d get sued. Which, at this point in time, would be an utter disaster. So, sorry, no photos. Well maybe one at the end.
The bridesmaids were in blue – and as I recall, Able commented some time ago to the effect that he accepted the maid of honour position at a future wedding. She’s insisting on heels, Able. Better get practicing.
Hey, I might well be in a skirt again so you guys are all wearing dresses or you don’t get in. One tip I’ll give you now is this: get a woman to show you how to use a toilet in a skirt. It’s not easy, and if the fabric slips from your grasp at any point, it’s bloody scary! Especially if it’s rented and has to be back next day. You dare not risk a skidmark!
The kilt survived untainted, as did I, and has been returned now. So I am kiltless this evening (get that image out of your heads right now) but it was a comfortable thing to wear so I won’t rule out being re-kilted in the future.
I was sober enough to get oiut of that Rubik cube of an outfit at the end of the evening, which surprised me. Surely the combination of fiddly little bits and whisky just makes life really hard for the Scots. Or maybe it’s just me. Then again, I was sober because of a reason and that reason happens when Son and Mrs. Son go off to Santorini on honeymoon Monday evening,
My brother is fully aware of what’s coming and has been a big help in keeping my natural tendency to tell all under control. Tomorrow there is no more control. Tomorrow the shit hits the fan and as my brother said, let’s see how far it splatters.
Most of it will splatter me but then being splattered with shit is almost my life’s work anyway. I’ll keep BG out of it all as far as possible.
Let’s end this post on a smiling note, even though I have used up my smile quota for this month. Here’s that one wedding photo I promised.
My brother took this one. I call it ‘The Pariah’.