The Royal Wedding.

I woke up one Friday morning to the TV downstairs switched on, and the sound turned up really loud. I got out of bed and went down to the living room. My whole family - Mum, Dad, Gran, Grandpa and my sister Louise - were all sat, staring at the TV. There were loads of limos, and the Queen, Prince Charles. Plus Princes William and Harry. I sighed heavily to myself. I’d forgotten, it was the day of the stupid Royal Wedding.
“William and Kate got married. Then she kills him, and runs off with his money,” I said, making everyone jump, turn away from the TV, and stare at me instead.
“I beg your pardon?” Louise told me off. “You don’t care about the Royal Wedding?”
“No I don’t.” I sat down next to my sister and switched on my laptop, to go on Facebook.
I scrolled down the home page, then logged off in disgust. The home page was just a running commentary of the Royal Wedding.
There was at least an hour of the Royal Family turning up at the church. There was a running commentary on what everyone was doing. And a lot of poncey music playing. My family kept shushing me because I was forever taking the piss.
Louise thought Kate Middleton’s dress was really pretty. I thought it was rather hideous. Louise punched me when I said so.
“See how pretty Catherine looks,” Gran said.
“Of course she’s happy,” I said. “She’s just come into a lot of money.”
Louise punched me again. Harder.
After about three hours, the happy couple were married at last. I whooped in joy, but then there was coverage of it on the news that everyone wanted to watch. I groaned out loud and logged back into Facebook. The home page was still a running commentary on the Wedding. My friend Shayna posted on my wall, saying about it being so wonderful. Pass the sick bucket.
After the news had finished, Shrek came on the telly. Mum switched it off and everyone left the room. I switched the TV back on because I wanted to watch Shrek, the movie about the happy couple. But Mum switched it off again.
“We are having a family barbeque in the garden to celebrate the Wedding,” she said. “And you are joining us.”
“But Mum…” I started to whine.
“No buts Samantha. You are not watching Shrek, you are joining us outside.”
“But why are you celebrating the Wedding?” I asked. “We don’t know William and Kate personally, we weren’t invited to the Wedding. Why should we care?”
“Because it’s a happy occasion.” That was all Mum would say.
I must admit that the barbeque was great. Sausages, burgers, chicken wings, potato salad, coleslaw with salad and lots and lots of alcohol. To me, it was just a family barbeque in the garden, but to the rest of my family, it was celebrating the stupid Wedding. I joined in when everyone toasted William and Kate but only because Mum kicked me under the table.
After the food had been eaten, we all went back indoors and switched the TV on. There was more footage of the Wedding that we all watched for the rest of the evening. The only good thing about it was the amount of Guinness’s I consumed.

The next day, the telly was on again early in the morning. This time, it was a running commentary on how William and Kate spent the night at Buckingham Palace, and know they were off on their honeymoon. Who cares? I didn’t. But everyone else certainly did.
I logged into Facebook. And it was also a commentary on the happy couple. I put up a sarcastic status:

“So William and Kate are married now, are they? Whoop de fucking doo.”
Just to see what everyone would say.
After half an hour, I nosed at my profile. I had about twenty comments on my status, mainly telling me they couldn’t believe my attitude towards the Wedding. Although four people liked it, so at least someone agreed with me. I got fed up with reading all the rude comments, so I deleted the status off my profile.
“They’re going on their honeymoon now,” I said. “Kate’s going to kill him and run off with his money while they’re on their honeymoon.”
At that moment, Mum leapt up off her seat.
“Right, that’s it Samantha!” She fumed at me. “I appreciate that you don’t care about the Wedding. But you’re spoiling it for the rest of us. Now take your laptop and go upstairs to your room.”
I thought it was a bit late to tell me off, now that the Wedding was actually yesterday. But I did as I was told. I took my laptop up to my room.

It was a year later. A year since the Royal Wedding. I was enjoying a nice lie in. Suddenly, Louise banged my door opened, and came into my room.
“Samantha! Have you heard the news!? William and Kate have split up! They’re getting divorced!”
I sat up in bed, and stared at my sister in shock. Then I started giggling. Louise looked at me in disgust, and left.
I went downstairs, and logged into Facebook. The home page was a running commentary on the Royal Divorce. I put up a status on my profile about it:

“Congratulations to William and Kate. The happy couple.”