Make way for the Mother of the Groom, I’m not shutting my gob

The Mother of the Groom Speech – it’s not a thing, right?

Sure, you carry that boy inside you for nine months, and you destroy your pelvic floor pushing him into the world.

You feed him, clothe him, cry for him, lie for him – no, my child definitely didn’t bring a flick-knife to school; no, it definitely wasn’t him who set fire to that field.

And you spend 31 years raising him, although it’s 18 officially, but he’s still your child even though nowadays you’d need a forklift if you wanted to pick him up.

Wedding speech time

And then he gets married and you’re meant to sit there smiling, with a mouth full of teeth? I think not.

I’ll speak my mother tongue

Make way for the Mother of THIS Groom.

Yes, as you may have gathered, my oldest son, the manchild mentioned in this column for many years, will be getting married on April the first – no jokes.

I couldn’t be happier.

She’s a fabulous lass, they’re a lovely family, and it’s all happening in the Cape, with views of forever, and there’ll be dancing and bubbles and joy all around.

Not shutting my gob

I’m keenly aware that it’s not all about me.

It’s about the bride chiefly, and the groom, and then the Mother of the Bride.

Apparently, the mother of the groom is even meant to ask the mother of the bride what she’s wearing so she doesn’t outshine her, something I haven’t done because I suspect Cath would die laughing.

However, I am keeping my look simple and demure; I am blending with the wedding palette.

But I am not shutting my gob.

Stand aside, Mother of the Groom is here

I asked my son who was making speeches, certain I’d told him I’d like to, wondering who else was talking, and he rattled off the list: the MC, the best man, the bride’s dad, my fella, and the groom himself.

All men.

“What about me?” I said, me and my ex-pelvic floor.

“You didn’t want to make a speech!” he replied.

I did, I protested, and I certainly do.

I’ll make that speech, like it or not

Just because all the other ladies are keeping schtum doesn’t mean I am too.

I made a speech at my own wedding and I’ll make a speech at this one, like it or not.

Okay-fine, said the manchild.

Good, I said.

Goodness, I thought.

Because now I’ve got to think of something to say.

ALSO BY JENNIE: I’m happily married and more secure