Daughter: When or if you and whatshisface ever get married I won’t be going to the ceremony..

Me: What do you mean?

Daughter: Sorry, did I stutter?

Me: Of course you’re coming. You’re my only child.

Daughter: I wont be coming. The prospect of having to watch you engage in a public display of affection..oh no, no, no.. And then the so-called exchanging of vows…no, no, no..

Me: That’s what a wedding ceremony entails…the public celebration and declaration of love between two people…

Her utterly disinterested, glazed expression tells me I may as well be speaking Russian…with a little Urdu and Swahili thrown in for good measure…

Daughter: I won’t be coming

Me: You won’t be coming to my wedding ceremony?

Daughter: Why would I go to yours when I wouldn’t even go to mine. If I ever get married, the groom’s on his own. He’ll know where to find me.

She may as well be speaking Russian…

Daughter: I’ll be with the cake.