Written on 12 March 2019
Keith
She looks absolutely breathtaking. Wow. I look like an enraged potato. Her mother isn't bad, except for the dumbo ears and the bulldog overbite, but flipping heck our daughter did alright for herself. Wow.
To be honest, I was dreading this part. How do you look dignified next to a beautiful young woman in white when your suit barely fits the extra stone you've put on in the last 3 weeks and it's 34 degrees outside. The shirt is already basically a swimming pool. Flipping disgusting, this getting old mallarcy. I have to go to the chemist for my deodorant now. shameful.
But I must admit, I'm so proud of her. So so proud. She's always been headstrong, to a blooming fault when it came to partying, but she's never been much hassle, really. She's just been our Katy. She is a beautiful woman. So wonderful. Am I flipping crying? That's curious.
There's her groom. Tim. Nice but dim. Is his best man wearing jeans? And what the fuuu. . Flip is the celebrant wearing? What, is he going to pimp my daughter out?
There is an unbelievably strong part of me that wants to grab her and run away from this shambolic altar. It might just be father's pride or whatever the flip, but she's too good for this. Too good for this dingy little room, too good for the plain-as-paper fella sheepishly grinning at her. Too good for all of these gawping morons I'm paying for to be here. She's too good for me, and my wife, and England and this universe really.
But she's smiling. Smiling at Tim. It's time. This is what she wants. Kiss her on the cheek and let her go.