Getting bladdered at Ginny's wedding

Where the bloody hell is Ginny? We’ve been cooped up in this church for over half an hour and my bladder is going to explode. If she doesn’t march her meringue & St Tropez tan down the aisle pronto, I’m going to do a runner out the door and squat behind a plant pot.

Wonder if she’s having second thoughts? Broken down? Or just being a drama queen? Poor Tom is pacing furiously at the top of the aisle. The priest is consulting his watch anxiously [word has it, he’s refereeing a rugby match in a few hours and he’s keen to get going]. Oh come on Ginny, you selfish mare.

I feel like a big-beached whale…make that an 80’s throwback beached whale. I just couldn’t justify spending 500euros on a ‘special occasion’ dress, even if it did ‘flatter my contours’ according to the sales assistant. So, I borrowed a pal’s, elder sister’s maternity ‘dressy’ outfit. It’s basically a blue and yellow tent with big geometric shapes and shoulder pads, Joan Collins would approve of. I ‘teamed’ this becoming rig out with a pair of comfy Dr Scholl’s beige granny sandals, which just about house my expanding, foot area in this heat. Its not a particularly flattering ensemble…mind you what is at the moment? My tummy precedes me by about half a mile; my waist has taken a sabbatical and my bum has gone south [although to be fair I never had one of those pert ‘2 snooker ball in a handkerchief’ arses]

My bladder is about to explode! This is miserable. Peanut is performing a full gymnastic routine. Kick, kick, punch. My tented dress is rising and falling as Peanut shifts and plays with my internal organs. Special Bloke rubs his hands over my belly absent-mindedly. Peanut belts out a strong punch, taking Special Bloke by surprise. ‘Wow, that’s some left hook you have there Peanut’ Special Bloke beams proudly. ’Look at this Tom!’. Poor anxious Tom is dragged over to watch my large tummy wiggle up and down. Special Bloke presses down on my belly to say hello to Peanut. My poor bladder is struggling. I simply have to relieve myself…

Oh Oh music…here Ginny comes. Oh she looks beautiful. Skinny cow. Tom visibly sighs with relief. When Ginny is settling herself next to Tom, I sneak outside for my own private moment. I relieve myself behind an enormous car. Phew! That’s just so much better. I shake down my dress and turn around to pick up my bag and wrap. I do not believe it. There is a video lens focused on me. I am puce with mortification. ‘Don’t worry love, we’ll edit that bit out’ whispers the video guy. ’I was trying to get an arty shot from back here. Not to worry eh?’ I sneak back in, with my head down and tail tucked firmly between my legs.