Over the last year or so, I’ve grown used to Chicken’s quirky behaviour and rather unorthodox way of looking at things. Because of this, I’ve learnt to filter out half of what she says, and most of what she does. I find this a good policy. It saves me a lot of mental energy. However, ignoring what she is saying has its drawbacks as I have just discovered.
The Fairy and Chicken went shopping this morning, so I was left in charge. I took the opportunity to sweep the house for listening devices which may have been planted by Foxy, or indeed any of the local wildlife, whom I still do not trust.
During the first phase of my patrol, I came across a food list which included a carrot and walnut cake, which is my favourite. I initially thought Chicken was thinking of making me one for Christmas, but also on the list were 12 wedding favours. This didn’t make any sense to me, but for some reason caused me to feel a little uneasy.
The next thing I came across was a guest list, which included Father Christmas, Rudolf, Jurgen Klopp, PC Dave from the Station and Big Rabbit. I decided to ring Father Christmas to ask about it, and he confirmed that he had indeed received a wedding invitation, though didn’t have time to explain, as obviously he is extremely busy at the moment. As I was curious as to who was getting married, I then decided to ring PC Dave.
He appeared to be speaking in some sort of police code, and cryptically warned me not to let Chicken know that I had forgotten my own big day. My big day? By this time I was very worried, as I felt instinctively that I should know who was getting married, and had a sneaking suspicion that it was me!
Can I organise this in four days?
Chicken then returned from shopping, saying that she had opted for the Audrey Hepburn look, but that I wasn’t allowed to see. She threw down a copy of Bride magazine and went off into the kitchen to talk to The Fairy. I only just managed to drag myself into my office before collapsing.
Had I agreed to a Christmas Eve wedding without realising it? Was that possible? I want to marry her of course; she’s pretty, loving, funny and enthusiastic about everything, but I had rather imagined that I would be in complete control of the planning of the event.
For starters, how am I going to organise a suitable honeymoon in only four days?
Monty The Worried
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