(My cousin is getting married. Her dad is dead and her mom is ill, so we’ve been stepping in to help out. My older sister is very opinionated and, quite frankly, rude.)
Sister: “You really should put off the wedding until next year, at least.”
Cousin: “Why? We’ve got everything lined up, and we’ve already signed a contract for our apartment.”
Sister: “Yeah, but you don’t want to look like a cow on your wedding day. A year should give you enough time to lose some weight. I mean, come on. You’ll look like a white whale!”
Cousin: *manages to not rip her head off, instead politely excusing herself*
(Sadly, that was one of the kinder things Sister had to say, but this is the final straw. Later…)
Cousin: “[My Name], I’m sorry, but I’m not inviting [Sister] to the wedding. I understand if your folks don’t want to be involved anymore.”
Me: “No, I get it.”
Fiancé: “What happened?”
(We tell him.)
Fiancé: *turns red, and looks seriously tempted to go out and physically rip Sister a new one* “Let me get this straight. She called you a cow?”
Cousin: “Yup.”
Fiancé: “She’s not coming.”
Me: “No argument, here. Your wedding, your way. I’ll back you.”
(Three months later, the wedding happens, and the bride looks fantastic. Despite not being invited, my older sister tries to show up, and is sent home. Furious, my father stomps around in a hissy fit, but nothing he says changes the bride’s mind. My mom had been planning on helping with all the clean up, so she’d encouraged the bride to save some pennies – money was tight – and not hire a lot of staff for after the reception. Instead, the moment the bride and groom have left, my dad all but drags my mother and all my other siblings out and drives off. The rest of the guests leave quickly, and I’m left there with only three or four friends and no vehicles, to try and clean everything and transport all the stuff home.)
Guy Friend: “We can do the cleaning just fine, but there’s no way we can carry all this stuff. Your apartment’s got to be at least two miles away. It would take all night to make that many trips!”
Me: “I know… I’m so sorry.”
Guy Friend: “I’m going to make some calls.”
Me: “Thanks.”
(I didn’t realize who he was going to call, though. 20 minutes later, in walks my cousin and her new husband, having changed out of their wedding finery.)
Me: “Oh, no! I’m so, so sorry!”
Cousin: “Not your fault. Let’s get this done.”
(And that, folks, is how my older sister and dad forced my cousin to spend her wedding night in grungy clothes cleaning up after her reception.)
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