On the Thursday morning, me and Mom were on a production line of cupcake making, Mom churning out the sponge, me whipping up obscene amounts of butter icing and wrestling with a piping bag. In between coating Moms kitchen in icing sugar and covering every possible surface in cakes and sugared flowers, I was shouting instructions at anyone who was passing through (mainly my poor Mother in Law To Be) to tackle a job from any of the lists in my Big Book of Lists.
Then the toilets arrived. This was a highlight. (I bet there aren’t many brides who have said that about their wedding preparations.) But you see, there had been a lot of discussion about the toilets in the planning. Should we get loos? Would they be an eyesore? Where would they go?? Again, we shouldn’t have worried. They were tiny, immaculate and slotted very neatly and discreetly up a corner.
They were probably better than my own bathroom in fact.
Sighs of relief all round. I think I had a small weep of joy too. Hilariously, my step-father noticed they were from a company called Wrekin Toilets. “I hope they’re not reekin’ toilets!” he quipped. Oh how we chortled – it seemed delirium and it's cousin insanity had finally arrived.