I need the loo

Now then, we all know the excitement and anticipation that surrounds a wedding. 4 things are always top of our hitlist when going to a wedding: the bride's dress, the kiss, the cake and ofcourse the food! We are so excited by the thought of what delicacies await us there (never mind that nowadays we can pretty much concoct most of those meals ourselves - but I digress), we feel we will eat till our bellies give way. My hubby and I were discussing this as we went to his cousin's daughter's wedding a few weeks ago. We reminisced about our childhood and how we'd always try and eat as much as we could. We'd lament the next day wishing we had forced ourselves to eat just a bit more because, for me at least, it was sometimes a case of sadza & lacto lunch the next day vs. rice, chicken & coleslaw wedding feast. Weep with me those who know lacto. No amount of sugar in that stuff compared it to fried chicken. I weep again.

So it was against this happy backdrop of reminiscing that we pulled up to the beautiful wedding venue on a gloriously sunny summers day. Yes we were late. Let's get that out of the way. MH had already alerted us to her need for a poo as we had pulled away from the house so we knew we would be flying to the loo upon arrival. Much to my delight, her dad grabbed her and ran.  I prayed she would empty every one of her bowels at once, freeing me to a trauma-free meal later. It was with a heavy heart I received news that she had only done a wee. I watched her like a hawk. I gave her enough fluids to hydrate a small village in the hope that a miracle would happen before lunch. Zero.

We chased Judah around during the service - as is standard. We took a few selfies to keep him quiet at critical times. Then after bride and groom were happily united as one, we took pictures to our hearts content and mingled. All the while, I wondered why this little madam was holding back. But deep down I knew that all it would take was me being joyfully united with food. If anyone were to have handed me any kind of food during the service, my happiness would have triggered her chip and she'd have needed a poo. 

After much mingling, we finally sat down to eat. Nigerian weddings rock. I had some traditional fish stew & pounded yam. Morayo-Hope had already eaten and was playing with her cousins. As I tucked into my meal, a little voice - akin to the buzzing of a mosquito whilst you are trying to sleep - muttered "I need a poo poo."  I threw my fork and knife up in the air, jumped onto my chair and wailed "why meeeee????" at the top of my voice. That was in my head. As I was sitting next to my MIL, I smiled sweetly and said "Ofcourse darling, let's go and take care of you." The problem with having a vivid imagination is it never deactivates. By the time I got back from that torturous session which went on and on (MH loooves to stretch it out) - the fish resembled what I'd just been subjected to and I just couldn't enjoy it the same way.

What I could enjoy - with a certain green eyed envy - was the joy on Kola's cousin's face as she watched her daughter marry the man she loved.  She had gone through all the trials that motherhood brings and triumphed! There was a lot of love in the air that day, enough for me to still cuddle my daughter to sleep that night inspite of her succeeding at torturing me yet again!