Uncle Bernie

Weddings are wonderful occasions when all the family can get together and share in the joy of the happy couple. Unfortunately there is always someone.......
I bet you've got someone like this in your family!


So Joanne and Phillip have done it at last, and in style too. Three bridesmaids, one of whom was my Emma, and Phillip’s four year old nephew as a page boy. They all looked marvellous, and the kids behaved so well. Almost brought tears to my eyes. I looked over at Mum and she really was in tears. Still, as the mother of the bride she was entitled to be I suppose. I saw Phillip’s mother, Hazel, having a little sniffle as well. Both Dads stood proud as peacocks, and Phillip looked fit to bust with happiness.
I like Phillip, and his family too. Joanne struck lucky there with her mother-in-law, she’s a lovely lady. Shame about her brother though - awful man. He hasn’t stopped showing off since he got here. I half expected him to carry on all through the service but, thank God, he managed to restrain himself - just.
None of our side has met him before, but Phillip had warned us.
“My Uncle Bernie’s a bit of pain, I’m afraid,” he told us. “We don’t have all that much to do with him, actually, but as Mum’s only brother, we can’t not invite him. Luckily he lives in Scotland, so we won’t have to put up with him after the wedding,”
Bit of a pain? Bloody understatement that was! God, he’s awful. Bouncing around here, there and everywhere. Has to be the centre of attention, thrusting himself into other peoples’ conversations, and then taking it over. He always manages to talk about himself. Full of it. Tells unfunny jokes and laughs uproariously at them. If you don’t laugh with him he keeps urging you on, repeating the tag line until in the end you give in in self defence.
He’d been bad enough before the wedding, but when it came to the photographs he was infuriating. I could tell poor Hazel was embarrassed by his antics, she kept trying to calm him down, but he paid no attention. He took over from the photographer, arranging and re-arranging the group till the poor man got quite shirty with him, then of course we saw the other side of Uncle Bernie. Went off in a huff, and I saw him being quite nasty to little Ben, the page boy. Then he noticed me watching and on went the big toothy grin, and he tried to pick Ben up, but he was having none of it. Good for him.
Uncle Bernie was none too pleased during the meal and the speeches either. As groom’s uncle he had nothing to do, but it didn’t stop him trying to muscle in, heckling the speakers and making so called ‘funny’ remarks. However, Johnny, the best man, had had a few by then, and told him in no uncertain terms to shut up. We all joined in, clapping and shouting “Hear, hear.” You should have seen Bernie’s face!
When the rest of the guests arrived for the evening they were very confused. Of course none of them had met Bernie before, and one or two thought they’d come to the wrong reception. There he was, meeting and greeting, as if it was his function.
“Hello, how nice to see you, thank you for coming,” - quite the genial host. Poor Dad had to keep re-assuring people that they had come to the right place.
When the dancing started, he at least allowed Joanne and Phillip to lead it off, but thereafter, true to form, he has taken it over. I must admit he dances very well, but he seems to forget that other people might want to use the dance floor. He had the cheek to tell the band to play the sort of music he wanted, then cleared every one off so he could go into a tap-dance routine, would you believe.
He’s quite an old roue too. Won’t leave the girls alone, especially if they are young, tall and busty. Old enough to be the grandfather of some of them, for God’s sake. But he’s not fussy, he’s gone round all the women in turn, more or less demanding they dance with him. No one wants to, of course, but he won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.
Oh God,! Look, he’s making a bee-line for me now. Excuse me; I’m off to the loo!
Bloody man, roll on tomorrow when he goes back to Scotland!