‘ANC’ my mother keeps saying. ‘You must get an ANC.’ I know she didn’t vote for them so she must be hammering on about something else.
Then the context hits me, not that there could be any other as the past few months have focused on engineering a wedding.
Anti-nuptial contract is what my mother wants to impress upon me – how important it is to protect my assets, as it were.
But we are operating at the 11th hour, and ANC seems the one thing on the list that we just won’t get to.
With the catering having resolved itself, the dress looking gorgeous, the rabbi met with and the shul confirmed the last minute list of things to do remain challenging nonetheless.
As we knuckle down to arrange the seating plan, we realise we have not allocated a place for a few key people – such as the rabbi and the photographer.
We still have to decide whether there will or will not be prayer cards for grace after meals and arrange for someone religiously qualified to bless the marital pair (and since we have not engaged the rabbi for this task) this could prove a little difficult.
There are still serviettes to buy, flowers to be collected and photographic venues and time schedules to be arranged and adhered to.
Clothing items for the retinue are still being made and hems must be attended to so that we all look as perfect as possible.
Our international guests (namely my sister and her family) have started to arrive and it’s a matter of days until the main event.
Then in a last ditch attempt to turn a smallish affair into a memorable event, we review a fast diminishing budget and decide some form of entertainment is needed.
Nothing comes cheap and at the end of it all, the assets – what little remains – will not sustain legal fees.