When most people announce their engagement to their family, they are met with squeals of delight and shouts of congratulations and hoorays. My parents immediately leaped into their roles of Parents of the Bride, which apparently also translated into VIPP (Very Important Party Planners). Within a matter of moments, I was informed that the place I had hoped to hold my reception just wasn't good enough, and interestingly enough, neither was my scheduled date.
They might say a wedding is a bride's special day, but I soon discovered otherwise. Apparently, we were not revolving around my own schedule, but that of the MC, who was a good friend of my Dad's. In a swift move reserved for the likes of the Secret Service, my Mum was on the phone with the Church making alternative arrangements for the ceremony, while my fiance James and I stood in the middle of the room attempting to comprehend the unravelling of events before us.
Despite the fact that we were yet to source quotes and catering options from anywhere else, and that I had a completely different venue in mind, Dad was on his mobile booking the date with a local reception. Don't worry, he assured me, this is the best place for a good Lebanese wedding. Except there was a teeny, tiny problem with that statement. The groom.
Although the wheels had been set in motion for the traditional large, loud Lebanese wedding, I was marrying into a reserved Anglo-Australian family. WASPs to be precise. The kind who let old English etiquette dominate their meal times and who had minor heart attacks when they saw how big my family was (and how much we ate) at our engagement.
It was enough that my mother needed a series of Novenas to Saint Anthony to find comfort in me taking a husband outside the culture she knew and loved. But now I had to explain to my future mother-in-law that the intimate affair she had probably imagined for the wedding of her only son would be replaced by 330 people dancing like there's no tomorrow to the beat of large drums that would scare off an ancient Aztec tribe at ritual time.
Oh well, at least it was going to be something worth talking about! Until next week, happy planning!
