You are invited to a Wedding reception at Sepia Saturday. The theme this week is based on an old photo of a bride and groom.
I tried to think back to my earliest memories of weddings and found this photo of me, aged 3 years and 9 months dressed up as a flower girl for my Uncle’s wedding. Cute huh? Don’t be fooled.
In order to look this cute, I had to spend all morning at the much-hated hairdresser getting the full works – hair cut, rollers in, back-combing and the stinking hair spray. Then back home to get dressed, then back in the car for an hour long journey to Dunfermline Abbey. My parents both had roles to play in the proceedings, and tempers were frayed. During the photo shoot, I was bored and fidgety and I remember Dad threatening me with some punishment and holding me still while we posed. I’d had enough of weddings by that stage, and I hadn’t even had a whiff of the promised cake. You know what’s coming now, don’t you? Yep – I got away from his grip and took off round the hotel grounds like a rat up a drainpipe.
Any further photos of me were “action shots” as I hurtled through the rose beds with the photographer and my Dad in hot pursuit. I don’t remember a public smacking. I do remember being under the table with my little brother during the meal. My Grandfather, Douglas, was trying to keep us quiet with “wedding cake”. It was like no cake I’d had before. It was awful – full of raisins and booze and covered in marzipan. We ate the icing and abandoned the rest.
I guess Mum had her hands full with two small children on a massive sugar high and no doubt there were tears before bedtime.
Yes, my uncle and his bride forgave me, but I still hate fruit cake