Saturday, 30 April 2011

In Recovery

My name's Trish and I'm an addict! There I've said it, I am addicted to anything wedding related, much to the annoyance of my other half. And I have infected my daughters with my addiction too. They both like nothing better than flicking through the pages of a bridal mag to check out the latest fashions. And we cannot pass by a Church where there is a wedding going on, without stopping for a gander.
(I am the same with houses too I am probably the scary woman you see peering through your window trying to catch a glipse of your new sofa or fab wallpaper!)

So you will understand that yesterday was something of a treat for people like myself. A full day dedicated to a wedding! Now granted it was just the ceremony itself and didn't give us a glimpse of the reception (though I am sure if was FAB-U-LOUS) but for an addict like me and my girls it was a day filled with ooohing and aahhing over every last detail. We watched from the moment the coverage started until the very end (and we have relapsed today with a bit more from all of the papers which we have purchased in armfuls and will keep in pristine condition for my future grandchildren).

Why? I hear you cry. Well because I am a hopeless romantic I suppose. I want to believe that anyone can meet their Prince and live happily ever after (even if the statitics prove that it is highly unlikely)
I want my daughters to believe in marriage, though if they decide not to thats fine, and I want them to find someone that will love them for who they are no matter what. It doesn't have to be a real Prince, just someone kind and loving who will treat them well and put up with their mad mother! I know Prince William is taken, but there's always Harry to Marry!


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