wedding belle

While Mr McMuffin attempts to make sense of terrorism and its impact on us, I realise that for me this is a hopeless task. I never really understood the politics of the school playground as a child and I still don't get it on a larger scale. One minute we seemed to love the heroic Mujahideen and their stand against the Russians, then they metamorphasised into the evil Taliban. I remember when we hated the Iranians ands the Iraqis were our chums, now we seem to hate them both. So I've given up and I'm returning to the things that only interest me and a handful of people, like Gypsy Tart's wedding.

Her wedding plans have been a nightmare, largely because she and Rock Cake have hardly made any beyond booking the ceremony and the honeymoon. On Saturday Mr McMuffin called a wedding planning meeting and with the help of Ms Ginger Cake and Single Cookie, it is all under control. I went shopping yesterday for a dress for the bride to be and we found one in the second shop we went in (we chose our shops very carefully).

Gypsy Tart looked absolutely beautiful, in a rather non traditional colour. The colour only seemed to bother my parents and I was really cross with them for their thoughtlessness. Saying 'well, it's your wedding and you can wear what you like' isn't a glowing endorsement I'm afraid. When do older parents cross the line into elderly? It's when previously thoughtful and generous people suddenly become very fearful of change and their own mortality looms over them. I hope this isn't permanent state as I really miss their strength and calmness and I relied on them to take care of me and have me in their thoughts. Now we're all just nice, but flawed adults. I preferred it when I didn't have to be a proper grown up.