It was always going to be a challenge. I long suspected when the invite popped through the door inviting Simon and I along with Rory to a family wedding that things would not go to plan. It wasn’t local either so we had to factor in potential car journey disaster recovery plans.
Simon put on his suit. This was his first mistake.
“Right, you change Rory’s nappy whilst I load up the car”. Five minutes later Rory was handed back to me to reveal Simon’s crotch covered in Sudocrem. “Oh great!! Well done you. I mean seriously babe. It was madness to even think about getting dressed until we actually had the church in our vision. You know how hard that is to get off. Oh well, too late now”. Simon looked at me wearily as I bundled Rory into the car, still wearing my pyjamas.
We arrived in Edinburgh. We had planned for an hour for me to get changed and feed Rory in a cafe so we were all set to head to the church. But since it had taken us forty minutes to find the entrance to the bloody car park, we were now in dangerous territory time wise.
I decided it was more important that I turned up to the church dressed than Rory eating a fish pie, so I got dressed in the back seat of the car. I then fed him in the car. Yes. Cold fish pie. Yummy.
He seemed happy enough at first. Then he got angry. So angry that within a nanosecond he had pulled the spoon back and catapulted fish pie across my face and down my dress.
As I dabbed at myself with a wet wipe I thought of how things used to be. A glamorous new dress, high heels and carefully applied make-up all accompanied a wedding day invite. Not now. Now I was febreezing myself in a train station car park to avoid smelling of fish, half my make-up was off I was putting rice cakes in my bra so they were ‘handy’ in case Rory cried in the church. My my, how times had changed…