Chickie's First Wedding

“You’re brave bringing a toddler to a wedding” said the lady in the silk gown. Reading between the lines, I think what she really meant was, “You silly, silly girl!”

I didn’t mention I’d invested many hours trying to redeploy Chickie to a more suitable venue but Nanna was busy (something cappuccino related). My sister was also busy (something about washing hair) and Grandma and Grandpa were smearing clotted cream onto scones in Devon.

Through my tears, I stressed upon each of them that this was a ‘posh’ wedding, requiring female participants to feature in cocktail dresses and that Chickie wasn’t trusted within 10 feet of dry clean only fabrics. They made sympathetic noises, but all felt that if children were invited, it would be fine. I countered their arguments with the fact that neither bride nor groom had children of their own, so couldn’t possibly comprehend what they’d gone and done.

A day of genteel elegance and refinement beckoned and I was expected to seamlessly blend my 3ft minion of mass destruction into proceedings.

I wore an apron over my dress in the car. Chickie was changed into his tux on arrival and after some initial grumblings about wanting to wear a dress too, he charged off to explore the Manor. Accountant trotted after, thoughtfully leaving me to retrieve my bulging sack of munitions. An essential selection of apparatus– toys, snacks, chloroform...

“Where’s daddy?” I asked as I tugged my sack through the topiary fronted doors.
“Bar” said Chickie, pointing to Accountant’s retreating form as he scurried off down a corridor.

We took up pursuit. “Is it a ghost tunnel mummy?” he asked as we entered the dim hallway. I nodded seriously. He did his penguin dance, delighted by the scariness, before grasping my hand.

By the time we’d negotiated the labyrinth of corridors, we’d lost Daddy (who I know had started running), and found ourselves in the gardens. Vast and wooded with bridges and secret bits, Chickie’s eyebrows nearly fell off his head. “Let’s find dinosaurs mummy” he said, letting out a roar. My heels began their descent into the mud.

We returned for the ceremony looking much like we’d been landscape gardening. We took our ribboned seats, next to the exit. Accountant reappeared with a rosy glow. I glared lovingly at him before showing Chickie just how many packets of jelly babies could be his if he could just be quiet for the next three hours. He nodded his affirmation. He liked the deal.

And then something amazing happened. He actually was really quiet. It lasted throughout dinner. Then he was adorable as he laughed in all the right places during the speeches.

Once the disco lights began to twinkle, Chickie was up and everyone wanted to dance with the little boy who had so loved his first wedding. The one with the dinosaurs and the troll bridge and all the ghosties.