Our big family wedding and how Brexit failed to halt a joyous occasion
There was a moment at the family wedding last weekend, towards the end of the evening and wearing the effects of one too many espesso martinis, there were cross words exchanged with mum.
You can always rely on a wedding to deliver some sort of drama.
In fact this occasion was no exception, Brexit even playing part in proceedings, having failed to be delivered on time, the bride had to endure the same fate, when her car got caught up in the melee of London’s weekend demonstration.
The irony given she had given the groom, my cousin, an earlier time to ensure he wasn’t late.
While he hovered round the altar, with that uneasy dread he could possibly have been jilted, we enjoyed a few family selfies in church and the chatter surrounded the contraband pork pie my dad had brought along with him, after refusing to go along with the vegetarian menu of the day.
There is always one.
The delay also gave Grandma plenty of time to acquaint with the priest of a church she’s visited twice; even if it was just to make sure he knew she’d been there before and the priest before him from back in the day. Job done.
The beautiful bride arrived and it was a real family occasion to enjoy and there are plenty of us up for that.
There were a few fractious moments, mostly in the run-up to our trip down to London , Grandma having a last minute panic as to if she could leave the dog for a few days.
We got her there and this was finally her chance to have her moment in the wedding outfit she’d invested in a few years back for the two family weddings, which never quite made it to the aisle....
She even made the speech, with a special welcome and an ovation from the room as her grandson praised her as the ‘essential and integral part of our family’.
‘A woman who can literally dance the night away till 4am, clear up and still be up at 7am to walk the dog and cook breakfast for a houseful.’
So on to the celebrating and the youngest of our clan of cousins at 16 decided he wanted in - he’s probably still living with the effects of that decision.
His only option was to walk it home at the end of evening with his dad.
We’ll remember for when his wedding comes around.
The dance floor was alive and bouncing at The Bull and Gate at Kentish Town and there are plenty of photos to prove it.
Which brings me back to the row with mum - with a purse too small to fit the phone, of course it was up to her to sort this out .
At that point at the night, while she was trying to acquire an Uber for her drunken fold, Dad’s pork pie it turns out hadn’t been quite enough to soak up the beer, she was at the receiving end of fury for having lost the mobile phone for which she was responsible for... there was some logic in it at the time.
But all ended well, thanks to a bit of technology called Find My iPhone the next morning, it turns out the ‘lost’ phone had been wrapped up in Grandma’s pashmina in mum’s bag the whole time.
I knew I could count on her to sort it out - nice one mum, so here’s my sorry and Happy Mother’s Day.