One of my aunts is getting married and I am going to be the smallest bridesmaid - I'm probably about seven. I have vague memories of the day - a sweet mauve dress made out of some shiny self-patterned fabric, being given a silver bangle by the groom, deciding that I will entertain all the guests with a ballet dance and then, after about thirty minutes, getting cross when I am moved from the dance floor so the happy couple can have the traditional first dance.
There is a buffet-supper; I am allowed to go and help myself - although Nan-next-door says I must eat everything I take - waste not being permissible (also she and Grampy are paying so I expects she wants her money's-worth). I milk the situation by making numerous trips to collect a single items of food, a slice of ham - eat that, then back for a bread roll, eat that and then back for a single tomato and so on - good excuse for swishing around in my nice dress.
Then the best bit - pudding. This is a dodgy-looking fruit salad - too many pears and not enough peaches for my taste, but never mind, I spot a bowl of cold pale yellow custard - so much nicer than cream. I wonder why formerly hot food tastes so much nicer cold? Pizza, tepid roast potatoes and toast left in the toaster for 15 minutes until it is nice and crisp - delicious.
Back at the wedding - I liberally (actually - replace that with greedily) spoon custard over the miserable fruit salad and plod back to the table (all those trips to get food and the ballet dancing are taking their toll). Unfortunately the bowl did not contain custard, but salad cream (I do not mean mayonnaise - which would have been more palatable, if a little strange), but sharp and vinegary salad cream. I am mortified at my mistake and do not tell anyone. Instead, taking Nan's words to heart, I plough my way through the fruit salad and salad cream -a very nasty combination.