We were stood behind one in the supermarket. It was howling. I'm not sure what it wanted - sleep or breasts, I expect. I turned to fiancee.
"How many of those have we got coming?" I said.
And fiancee laughed, because of course it was just an opportunistic joke about a crying child, wasn't it? In reality I wouldn't dream of doing a kid audit.
Before we were back in the car I'd worked out it was nine. "Nine," I said in my head. "Nine bundles of impatience and hunger, without personal boundaries or a sense of propriety, all clamouring to be entertained and looked at and given treats. Just like rock stars or politicians, but without the good stories. Something must be done."
"How many are on the list?" I said out loud, as casually as I could. "Five or six? What do people do to keep them in hand anyway?"
She gave me a slightly suspicious look and started the car. After a few minutes' silence, which in retrospect was designed to make me panic and play my hand too early, I decided to play my hand. It began with our friends Cathy and Steve, whose wedding invitations sign off with the unambiguous 'Sorry, no children.'
"Won't be any of that at Cathy and Steve's do, will there?" I said, and followed up with a topical reference to that miserable bridesmaid at the royal wedding. It felt like a strong start. I pressed on, delicately.
"I wonder whether it's fair on them a lot of the time. Five-year-old boys don't want to put on a suit and sit in church for two hours. I used to hate it."
Which was true. I was exactly what's wrong with children at weddings: grumpy, sober and terrible conversation, unless you happened to have a thing about dinosaurs. Are we really going to waste invites on that? We're on a people budget, and the big people are better value than the little ones.
In my head this had become a watertight case. Fiancee was bound to come round, and we'd ditch all nine tots on the list in favour of people with whom I could trade intelligent views on things like NHS reform and Jessie J. Job done.
As we turned into the driveway she said, "I want my niece at my wedding. We can ban her if you like, but I'll tell my mum it was your idea."
I suppose nine isn't that many.
words Nathan Midgley
Copyright WED Magazine 2011
