Horror stories involving children
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My daughter got married last September in a beautiful formal
evening wedding. Because the wedding was an evening affair, and the
reception to follow was a dinner/dance with open bar, she elected to only invite
the children of close relatives.
The secretary at her then fiancée’s employment had a habit
of bringing her children, the youngest of whom was about 9 months at the time,
to all of the employee weddings. She, as always, brought them, uninvited,
to my daughter’s wedding and reception.
It all might have gone unnoticed, except for the fact that the
9 month old cooed, giggled, and “talked” throughout the ceremony.
While the couple were exchanging vows, the baby was “talking” and everyone
could hear the mother quietly making sounds and encouraging the baby to make
noise. It’s such a shame some people always have to be the center of
attention, even on a young couple’s wedding day.
My mother told me that one of my cousins, who is about 15
years older than I am, put an age limit on her wedding (no children under
10 or something like that). It turns out that this age limit restricted me
and no one else as all of the children younger than me were flower girls or ring
bearers. Even my older brother was invited to the wedding since he was 11
at the time! My parents chose not to attend.
Our friends "Alan" and "Betty" were
married about five years ago, and my husband "Doug" was the best man.
Betty's three-year-old daughter from a previous marriage, "Callie" was
a flower girl, along with her seven-year-old cousin. Alan and Betty chose
to get married at a small chapel and I was asked to take Polaroids for the
people who could not come to the ceremony but were coming to the reception.
Callie is a bright, energetic child and has always been
something of a handful. This day, wound up with excitement, was no
different. She was only allowed to hold her flowers for the pictures and
the walk down the aisle because she kept hitting people with them and when the
time came for her to march down the aisle, Callie refused to move. She was
eventually hauled bodily down the aisle by her more resolute cousin. After
the processional, Callie went to sit with her grandparents but that did not
satisfy her for long. Callie got up and stood in front of Betty and Alan.
She then lifted up her flower girl dress to show her underwear to the
congregation. Figuring her mother might like photographic proof of this
event to use as blackmail material in about 15 years, I made sure to get a
picture. The professional photographer did not get one.
After her performance, Callie appeared to calm down and moved
to stand in the middle between Betty, Alan and the pastor. Several minutes
later, I hear Betty choke, "I love you, Alan," while the pastor says,
"Whoa. Let's get a Kleenex!" Thinking that the pastor had
ruined an incredibly romantic moment, I was somewhat taken aback but didn't
think too much more about it until I happened to glance at my husband.
Doug's shoulders were shaking and his head was bright red from suppressed
laugher. The other two groomsmen looked like they were about to lose it,
It wasn't until after the ceremony I found out the reason for
such mirth. It turns out that while standing with the bridal couple,
Callie started to pick her nose. She didn't just pick her nose, she jammed
her finger up as far as it would go and really went to town. After several
minutes of this, Callie pulls her finger out with an enormous booger on it and
leans forward to wipe the snot on Betty's dress. Only the quick-thinking
pastor saved Betty from having a permanent memento of the occasion.
Fortunately, the entire bridal party managed to keep it
together and complete the ceremony before recessing and exploding into laughter.
Everyone knew the little girl (and all children of that age) well and has a
similar sense of humor so no one was terribly upset.
I didn't get any pictures of the booger, but I have been told
that the underwear picture may be reproduced for Callie's wedding. Revenge
truly is a dish best served cold.
My husband's nephew was being married in a city several hours
from our home. When the invitation arrived it clearly had our three children's
names on the inside envelope and "Mr. and Mrs. XYZ and Children"
on the outside envelope. Our kids were older, about 9, 13 and 15 at the time,
and we'd always received compliments on their social etiquette. So they were
invited to the wedding and reception....or so we thought.
We returned the RSVP with 5 of us indicated. A week later we
received an Index card, yes, an index card, lined, from my husband's neurotic
sister with the message, "The bride's mother doesn't want kids at the
reception. ~ Joan" That was it. Nothing more, nothing less.
Well, after I steamed for awhile and wondered my brains out over what to do with
3 children after driving seven hours to a wedding then finding a place for them
during the reception (????) I took out my very very best stationary and my best
fountain pen and wrote two lovely, gracious notes to my SIL and the bride's
mother, apologizing for my "misunderstanding". I did not tell them
whether we were coming or not, as I really just didn't know.
In addition to all the bride and groom had inexplicably
scheduled their wedding for 11:00 am and the reception for 6:00, at a hotel an
hour drive across town. My DH really wanted to see his nephew get married so we
did make the drive for an unforgettable wedding where one of the readers
clopped, clopped, clopped across the church's stone floor to do a reading which
included a monologue and the faults of all the other girls Bob had dated
first (one had "fingers like sausages"). She also forgot to toss out
her baseball size wad of gum before her reading. Oh, and, my husband's brother's
new young wife, meeting much of our family for the first time, apparently forgot
to shower the day of the wedding, and the day before that,....and the day before
that, and maybe even the day before that. Fortunately, her body odor distracted
us from her greasy, linty hair.
I don't know where this story fits, exactly, but here
goes. Rose is a friend of a friend of mine. Rose has a young son (8)
named Cody. Cody is an adorable, intelligent little boy . . . and one of the
most horrible children I've ever met. Yes, I realize that his behavior is his
parents' fault, and I realize he's been made into the little boy that he is
through their upbringing and parenting (or lack thereof), but that does not make
it any easier to tolerate him. And as for his misbehavior, I'm not talking
about just talking back or lying . . . I mean being suspended from school for
physically assaulting (and seriously injuring) another kid. STITCHES. Or the
time he hit his teacher in the head with a wooden ruler. And Rose and her
husband are the type of parents who never stop and say, "Wow, there's
something wrong with Cody, and we need to get him some help." It's never,
ever Cody's fault. Whenever he does the things he does, it's always that he's
been provoked by another child . . . or mistreated by the teacher . . . or he's
tired . . . or he had a bad day.
At any rate, some good friends of mine, Veronica and Ray, just
got engaged; we were all quite excited for them. They asked a few people to be
attendants (including myself) and had decided not to have flower girls or ring
bearers, because, between the two of them, they had many nieces, nephews,
children of relatives, and children of friends, and, rather than risk listening
to every parent they knew ask why they had picked Susie or Timmy for the job
instead of Jane or Joe, they decided just to not have any children in the
wedding at all.
Veronica told various people they were getting married, and
posted something on her blog about it. Rose left her a (public) comment on
"Congratulations! Cody wants to audition to be the
None of us could believe it. We were flabbergasted at her
gall. Veronica knows Rose about as well as I do, which is to say: not that well.
We saw Rose not long after at the mutual friends' house,
and she asked Veronica, "Did you get my message?" Veronica said she
had, and Rose went on to say, "Cody's great at being a ring bearer!
He's done it three times and has had a lot of practice."
Veronica said, "I have no doubt he's great, but
we're not having flower girls or ring bearers."
Rose objected, "But Cody is so good!" (Good at what?
Torturing puppies?) Veronica said, more firmly this time,
"We're not having flower girls or ring bearers, and even if we were, we'd
use our nieces or nephews, or our cousins' kids."
Rose said, "No problem. He can just hand out bags of
rice." Veronica said no to that too.
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