This was my suitor - the ginger haired boy on the left with the party hat over his nose. I believe his name was Phillip Hodgekiss. If by any chance he happens to stumble across this post, hi husband, you owe me some alimony.
Since we'd been in a mature and committed relationship for at least a day, we decided it was high time he made an honest girl of me. Naturally, the year sixes (the big kids) got wind of this, and decided to organise the whole affair. I must say they did a splendid job. I wore my best party dress to school on the day of the wedding (that's me on the left, wearing said pretty green dress), and my Clarks Magic Steps.
We did the deed at lunchtime, and one of the big kids acted as minister (lucky that our school just happened to have the only 11 year old vicar in the world). Later, at the reception, we all played pass the parcel. The girl next to me won the prize, which was a packet of Chewits -
I didn't mind at all that she won, because I didn't particularly like Chewits. I always preferred Burger King. But one of the big kids minded very much. She marched over to my victorious neighbour and threatened to beat her up if she didn't give me the Chewits, since I was the bride and I should win. I took them off her, more from a feeling that I should do what I was told than anything else. I can't remember what happened to the Chewits. I'd like to think I ended up giving them back to the girl who lost them. I might well have done, but only in secret, when my wedding planners weren't looking.
Nowadays, when people ask me why I'm not married yet, I feel honour bound to tell them that I am already married. It is, after all, much easier than saying "Well, would you want to marry someone who collects Puddle Lane books?"
No comments:
Post a Comment