A Perfect Day
So, I’m married. It’s all done and dusted. Eighteen months of planning finally culminated in a single day where everything went pretty much perfectly.
The bride turned up. Yes, Mrs Dan-To-Be may have been totally overwhelmed when she reached me at the front of the room, but she was there. And on time.
Dan and Mrs Dan stood on their utterly enormous cake
She said ‘I do’ at the correct time. So did I. Mrs Dan-To-Be became Mrs Dan; the ceremony merely the cocoon for this beautiful transformation. And everyone was happy.
The registrars didn’t say the wrong names. The readings were lovely, Mrs Maid-Of-Honour starting the ceremony with Wilfred Arlan Peterson’s ‘Art Of A Good Marriage’ and finishing with Mrs Dan’s-L’il-Sis delivering Edward Monkton’s ‘A Lovely Love Story’ perfectly and exactly as required: in her finest, most patronising primary school teacher voice, talking down to the entire room, getting some laughs, lightening the seriousness and ending the civil ceremony perfectly.
The early morning rain cleared and we had the sunniest day for weeks. It appears that it was the last sunny day around these here parts, and this was four weeks ago now.
The photographer was not quite as annoying as is in the photographer’s remit to be. Some say it’s not a proper wedding if the photographer doesn’t piss you off. There was a mild annoyance, but nothing like I’ve witnessed at other weddings.
The food was, as required, a complete surprise to the guests and posh fish’n’chips or snobby beefburger went down surprisingly well with all the guests. Except my gran. She didn’t want fish as she’d had it the previous evening, then complained that the beefburger was too spicy. Well, it was her own fault. Trio of desserts was a stroke of genius suggestion from the venue themselves. Three puddings to choose from on every plate. Or why choose? Just eat all three!
The favours doubled as place settings: cookies personalised to every guest, were also well received. And we left tubs of sweets on the tables to keep people going as they waited for the speeches.
The wedding vows were, admittedly, a little unusual
The speeches, pre-food to allow the speechees to get them out of the way and enjoy their food, went well. Room just the right size to allow everyone to hear the speeches without need for a microphone. The ‘Best Men’ tag-teamed their way through a very impressive speech, especially considering their utter lack of rehearsal, embarrassing me not too much, with everyone enjoying it and even joining in at points!
Even Mr Dan’s-Best-Man didn’t get the tumbleweed treatment and he is affectionately known as the ‘Joke-Ruining Machine’. Mr Dan’s-Bruv-In-Law also added all the important bits I had forgotten to consider, remembering to throw in the traditional Ukrainian bits before delivering a wonderful tribute to my late Dad. My speech went well as I thanked pretty much every single person in the room, throwing in a few ad-hoc thank yous to Mrs Dan’s-Best-Man’s-Wife, who ironed all the shirts at the last minute and Mr Sorted-Out-Mrs-Dan-To-Be’s-Contact-Lense-Crisis. Really. Don’t ask. It could have gotten ugly.
The first dance went better than expected, especially having shut ourselves in the room with the dance floor for last-minute practice and failing miserably. Our dance teacher missed it by mere seconds, by virtue of taking a wrong turning on his way to the venue. He walked in on the applause.
We missed having anything at the buffet, for no reason I can fathom, but Mr Dan’s-Work-Mate was seen on more than one occasion with a bacon butty in each hand, kind of like he was starring in a culinary John Woo film. Chip butties, fried egg sarnies and all the chicken satay in the world went down well. See what I did there?
MidgetBridesmaids.com were in line for a massive pay-day
When we eventually escaped the photographer, we had a chance to spend it with the people who had taken time out of their lives to help celebrate with us, a fact that still overawes me every time I think about it. Everyone came *for us*! Amazing. And the evening wasn’t long enough to talk to all of them. There was a feeling of disappointment that there just wasn’t time to have a long catch-up with each and every one of them.
We showed off our dance moves every time the DJ announced this was ‘one of the bride and groom’s favourite songs’ including, even though I may say so myself, a very fast and almost flawless, cha-cha to Ricky Martin’s ‘Livin’ La Vida Loca’.
It was a brilliant day.
And far, far too short.
Without question, the best of my life.
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