As my husband and I woke up this morning, and started readying ourselves for the day ahead, I remembered it was the 29th of the month. So, we wished one another a ‘happy month-iversary’, as we are prone to doing. (Bear with us, we’re only newly married; this sort of nonsense is bound to wear off eventually). One of us made a remark about our ‘fairytale wedding’, and – of course – it got me thinking.
Fairytale. Wedding. Hmm.
If we’d actually had a fairytale wedding, here’s how I think it would have gone down:
One of us would have had to deny their father and renounce their name, be forced into a rudderless boat, and be cast out upon the stormy sea – only, of course, to turn up at the shore of the kingdom of our beloved. The other would probably have had to sacrifice a body part, or lose the power of speech in battle, or perform three – it’s always three – impossible tasks. Then, when we’d finally managed to Win Out over All Adversity, if we were getting married in a fairytale I reckon we’d have this guy as our celebrant:
That part might not be so bad, actually.
We’d probably have to put up with the fact that most of our guests were goats in disguise, or that they were dead (but we wouldn’t find out until it was too late), or agents of a malevolent witch intent on poisoning the wedding cake; we’d also probably have to deal with our rings turning into wood and our best man transforming into a frog, either of his own volition or against his will. Our bridesmaid would, no doubt, have turned out Evil, and her sole purpose in our whole day would be to attempt to bring the whole thing to a crashing end. Then, naturally, when it came to the bit where objections are supposed to be voiced, a magician who has me under a spell, and/or my ogre lover, and/or a giant with the wrong idea, would burst into the church and snatch me away, while my husband-to-be either turned into an eagle in an attempt to save me, transformed himself into a weeping willow in sorrow, and/or started hacking at anything that moved with his unfeasibly bejewelled broadsword. All this would happen before one of us realised that we had actually been swapped with our identical twin at birth, and said twin (evil, invariably) would suddenly reappear, claiming the almost-spouse as their own, just at the point where we’re about to exchange rings. Then, just as all seems lost, a talking dog, or previously uninvolved minor character who turns out to be the king, or an elf of some sort would appear, sort the whole mess out, and send us all home laughing – of course, with everyone married to the right person, and all body parts intact.
So – phew. All in all, I’m glad we didn’t have a ‘fairytale’ wedding day, in that sense. We did, however, have a wonderful day, complete with sunshine, music, dancing and cake. Also, we had a car that broke down at an inopportune moment – but that became part of the fun. Nobody poisoned anyone, nobody changed shape (unless you count the drunken gambolling, that is), and there weren’t any evil stepmothers or jealous ugly sisters or curses, that we know of. It’s nice to take a moment to remember it, and to feel grateful all over again for the joy we felt on that day, and how much ‘wuv – twu wuv’ was shown to us.
Enough of the soppy stuff. Have a happy Wednesday, y’all.
SJ O'Hart 