Seeing the tiny kilt on the tiny plastic groom with a bowtie, blazer, leather belt, plaid and all; It finally dawned on him. Tom was getting married. And all he could say about it was the fact that he and Charlotte were not Scottish, yet the plastic wedding cake toppers were.
“But- I’m wearing a KILT!” he said, eyes still glued on the moulded couple. They looked so intensely happy- their smiles were stretched like balloons being stretched by a carnival clown. Rosy cheeks and a touch overboard on the maquillage; Tom hoped that he and Charlotte would not look quite so similar at their own wedding.
“But it’s so cute!” Charlotte dragged the ooo-sound at the end of her sentence – she was keen on placing this tacky topper on the top of their wedding cake and it was likely that whatever he was going to say wasn’t going change her mind. He suspected that Charlotte was also keen on having just about the world’s tackiest and most stereotypical American wedding known to man. Or man with cable, at least. Just for kicks.
“Charlotte, I am wearing a kilt.”
“And I am wearing ruffles!” Charlotte kissed him on the cheek. This was all so amusing for her. “But we’re not actually going Scottish.”
“Because we’re not Scottish?”
“Because we’re not Scottish.”
Created: Jul 31, 2012martianchild Document Media