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MARY-JANE DUNCAN: Everybody loves a wedding – but he had ONE job

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Okay, it starts at 3pm so we need to be there by 2.15pm which means we need to leave by 1.15pm so we need to have breakfast by 10am and be ready by 12:30pm which means we need to wake up at 9am but it’s the bairn’s birthday so there will be presents to be opened and songs to be sung so we’d better make that 8am.

Anyone else have a headache hurt too?  A MASSIVE shout-out to all doing backwards maths especially when even after all the effort it just never quite works out.

This mental arithmetic was in honour of a family wedding we were attending.

We were NOT going to be the late people

I hate people with poor time management.  Why are they always late?  Once or twice is fine but EVERYTIME?  No. Sort it out.

Unfortunately, in most instances, those late people happen to be us.

I was determined this time it wasn’t going to happen.

We were going to be immaculately dressed, on time, present and correct and I would have a stress-free weekend celebrating without one harassed moment.

It just so happened the wedding fell on the same weekend as smallest’s birthday, but that was okay.

Feeling quietly confident, I was

We love a double celebration, and I could factor this all in and she’d have an absolute ball.  After 18 years of planning and implementing the kids’ birthdays, I was feeling quietly confident.

The wedding was to take us west, to glorious Loch Lomond to be precise.  Where the whole of Scotland was likely to be on a sunny weekend in July.

No problem, I absolutely love the area, having grown up nearby, but just to be sure, we would head through the night before.  Am genius (pats self on back).

A nearby house was located and booked.  Job done; box ticked.  RSVP sent.  Box ticked.  Outfits bought, hair appointments and teenage spray tans arranged. Tick. Tick. TICK!

The happy wedding party.

Smug comes before a fall

I even managed to arrange for a visit to Go Ape enroute on the Friday evening in lieu of a party AND I remembered a cake.  I am an organisational wonder, am I not?!

Smug comes before a fall and oh did I plummet.

Go Ape was a hit, the kids had a ball.  The mister and my brother not so much but they survived and were grateful for it.

We headed off to the hired house , had a delicious Italian takeaway with a few drinks and were excited to see everyone the next day at the wedding.

The calm before the storm

Kids in bed, we decorated the living room and placed the presents and balloons ready for the morning.  Satisfied by our parenting skills we retired for a good night’s sleep.

Morning came, Happy Birthday was sung, presents opened and birthday breakfast consumed in the comfort of our jammies in the knowledge we had plenty of time to get ready before we had to leave for the church.

Time for Military Mum to come out and organise who was showering first.  Biggest takes longest to get ready, as is an 18 year old’s want, so she was first.

I would press the outfits while she showered.

On no! Oh yes…

The Mister’s and Kid 2 & 3’s outfits were all sorted.  Now just for Biggest and mine.

After an extensive search of the two-bedroom  Airbnb and the car, it was soon confirmed by a quick call to our dog sitter. Biggest and my outfits were still hanging beautifully on the stairs in our house.

TWO HOURS AWAY from my, now redundant, ironing board.

Aaahhh! A wedding to remember, for many reasons

Having been assured the previous day, TWICE, by the mister, he had packed ALL the outfits, one swift look from me and he was running out the door, keys in hand and leaping into the driver seat.

It was 11am.  The ceremony was at 3pm.  We were a four-hour round trip away from home.  I refer to my shady maths attempts from earlier but even I knew we were in trouble.

On Saturday July 31 2021, my beautiful princess bride cousin married her handsome French prince in a ceremony on the bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond.

I’ve seen the photos and even still pictures brought a tear to my eyes.

The reception was out of this world, a joyous celebration not to be forgotten for a long, long time.  It may well take me longer to forgive him.  He had ONE job.