**Diary Entry 12th June**
I never imagined my wedding day would turn into such a spectacle. It all started before the ceremony even beganmy mother-in-law, Margaret, decided that since she was widowed and still “young and lovely,” she deserved to be the maid of honour. I tried to argue, but for my husband Edwards sake, I gave in. “Whats the worst that could happen?” I thought. “Its just tradition, after all.”
But then the worst did happen.
Margaret showed up to the ceremony in a long white dress. *White!* The sort that ought to be reserved for the bride. At one point, she practically snatched the bouquet from my hands and stood proudly beside me as if *she* were the centre of attention. I fought back tears and outright refused to take photos with her.
Yet the real disaster came later. As we stood at the altar, exchanging vows, the vicar asked that dreaded question: “Should anyone present know of any reason why this man and this woman may not lawfully be joined in marriage, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”
Then, Margaret raised her hand.
“I object,” she declared loudly. “Hes my only son, and I wont hand him over to another woman. Eddie, come homewhy do you even need this wedding?”
Gasps filled the room; someone stifled a laugh. Edward froze, speechless. Fury boiled inside me, but in that moment, I knew exactly how to save the day.
With perfect calm, I turned to her and saidloud enough for all to hearsomething entirely unexpected.
“Mum, have you forgotten your medication again? The doctor warned youskipping doses leads to these delusions. Let me fetch you some water to settle you. Todays our wedding! Im your daughter-in-law, and this is your son. Dont you remember?”
Then, addressing the guests:
“Please forgive hermy mother-in-law has been unwell lately, and sometimes she doesnt realise what shes saying. Vicar, lets carry on. Her words mean nothingits just the illness speaking.”
“But Im *not* ill!” she protested.
“Of course youre not,” I replied gently. “Just a little forgetful with your pills. Well sort it straight after.”
She faltered, retreated to her seat, and the ceremony continued. We married, and in that moment, I learned something: sometimes, protecting your happiness means playing the game smarter than the rest.
