I had a lovely veil in the form of a pillow case, my bouquet was provided by the hydrangea bush under my bedroom window, and while I can't remember which of the neighborhood boys stood opposite me, I do remember that rather than kissing at the end of the ceremony we finished it up with a rousing game of tag.
Ah, it was a lovely day.
But as elegant as my ceremony was, a South African eight year old has definitely beat me. You see, he didn't just get pretend married, he got real married. And he didn't marry some eight year old little girl from next door, he married a sixty one year old friend of the family [link].
Well, when I say real married, it wasn't a legal wedding, just a ritual. And if we're going for full disclosure I should probably mention that the woman already has a husband and five kids. So I guess it was more like my childhood wedding that I first thought, just with more money, nicer clothes, and a buffet afterwards.
Still, I had no idea that our dead relatives could boss us around from beyond the grave. So just to be on the safe side, I'm going to say one thing. Grandma? I miss you very much, but if you come to me in a dream and tell me I have to marry some pensioner I've never even met, I'm afraid you're going to be very, very disappointed.