Smithlaa No More

I’ve never seen a woman more suited to wearing a wedding dress than my darling Smithlaa last weekend. She appeared at the top of the aisle and the breath caught in my chest as she looked like she should be in a movie – one of those old black and white super romantic Hollywood ones where she’d be reclining on a chaise longue dripping in diamonds and the Halsinator (her dashing groom) would sweep into the room dressed like Dick Tracy. Along with just about everybody in the ceremony I couldn’t help but shed a tear as she made her way towards her future on the arm of her Dad, and I knew that although there were lots of tears for lots of different reasons my tears were because Smithlaa’s Mum couldn’t be there on the most special day of her daughter’s life. It made me think about if I ever find someone dumb enough to marry me and how I’ll feel walking down the aisle without my Mum’s face beaming at me. I had to restrain myself from reaching out and squeezing her shoulder as she passed but I knew that she was well aware that every single person was thinking of her and the Halsinator as they took their first step into the future. I’ve known the Groom for a long time and have always known him as a cocky little shit with a mouth that runs away with him and a sarcastic streak a mile wide so I was staggered by how grown up and in love he looked as he saw her. Gone was the cocky kid with the curtains and the penchant for wearing roll neck ribbed sweaters and replacing him was a man so in love that for one day only he was prepared to drop the facade of being cool and let the entire world know that Smithlaa was his universe.

The ceremony was short and very sweet which was a good thing because any longer and I’d have been a damn mess. I was worried about making it through my reading without weeping like a bloody baby but before we knew it they were pronounced Mr and Mrs Halsinator, kissed, and were walking back up the aisle to get the party started with grins so big I thought their faces were going to break. I was teetering on the brink for most of the day, swinging between being overjoyed for the happy couple and feeling tears pricking my eyes at the unfairness that Smithlaa didn’t have her Mum there and the Halsinator didn’t have his Dad. I was also fit to burst from the pride of seeing two people I love so much doing something so grown up and life changing.

Knowing the Halsinator as I do I knew that although most grooms would have relaxed once the ceremony was over, he wasn’t going to properly chill out until the meal was over. He’s a bit of a foodie and so they’d gone to great lengths to choose a menu that they knew everyone would love, which we all did. Once he could see that nobody had been poisoned and that it had all gone well – apart from one slight mishap – he relaxed. There was a couple on my table made up of a guy I was at school with who we shall call ‘Ronald’ (after his love of the golden arches) and his fiancée ‘Apache’ (after her love of the Sugarhill gang) and we were having great fun taking some rather dodgy photos on the table cameras and generally getting up to mischief when the waitresses started bringing the bubbles round for the toast. Ronald had a very near miss with the head caterer who was holding an entire tray of flutes who seconds later stumbled and poured an entire tray of champagne down Apache’s back! Poor Apache was literally dripping, trying to laugh it off by joking about sucking her dress if she ran out of booze later but how awful! The worst thing was the reaction of the woman who did, let’s not forget she was the HEAD CATERER… She stood there motionless before saying ‘I’ll get a towel’ and wandering off. She came back with a towel…. and started to clear the floor with it leaving Apache still sitting there dripping. No apologies, no offer of a free drink, no offer of somewhere to dry off a bit, just nada. Not Cool. Thankfully Apache is too awesome to let a little bit of a spillage get her down and so the party carried on unabated.

Having been winding up Palmtree the best man all afternoon about his speech as the microphone was passed to him I did feel a bit sorry for him. I mean I’d been wetting myself about doing a reading in the ceremony and here he was having to try and make a roomful of people laugh – nightmare! He needn’t have worried though because his speech was awesome, exactly the right mix of banter directed at the Groom, banter directed at the institution of marriage, some schmoochy woo stuff for the ladies and of course the obligatory joke about the Groom’s prowess (or lack of) in bed…. Job well done! It was such a wonderful day, the stress I’d been feeling about seeing people I hadn’t seen since my unhappy school days seemed totally ridiculous and once more reinforced the idea that I can get too tied up inside my head at times. Sure looking back at the photos from the dancing I look like a sweaty heffalump but at the time I honestly didn’t care, I felt carefree throwing some shapes with the others, a rare feeling for me and one I shall cherish.

Having been entrusted with the key to the honeymoon suite it took me slightly too long to cotton on to the fact that perhaps the stags were up to mischief when the best man came and borrowed the key… It was all a bit mission impossible to even get into the suite as the caterers had parked their truck against the door and so it involved a shimmy, a squeeze and a wriggle but finally I made it. I almost wish I hadn’t as it did seem like the stags were after some alone time (they were pretending to bum each other over the marital bed) however it made for some hilarious photos which I am looking forward to sending to the Groom when he returns from his posh honeymoon 😉

Not sure why this took me so long to write and upload but I have to say I’ve enjoyed sitting and thinking about their special day every time I’ve tried to finish it. I felt so honoured to be part of their special day and look forward to watching them grow together as a couple – and make babies, I want godchildren damnit!


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