My beautiful Paige-y Paige is finally tying the knot with lovely hubby-to-be Duane.

When they’re not being mer-people, Paige and Duane like to eat spag bol so I had them round the another night and Paige handed me my official wedding invitation with a request to RSVP to her mom. Then, a glass of wine later, we cooked up an evil scheme to mess with her that starts with my heinously rude RSVP.

Once I hit send, I sat back and rubbed my wicked little hands with glee. How long would it take for her to realise I was joking? Or, would she totally take the bait and whip out a snippy e-mail letting me know that, no, I can’t wear a sletterig wit rok to her daughter’s special day. But to my surprise she sent me this…

Well-played Mrs H… well-played… Can we get some serious #respect for Mrs. Harris? Why is she not running our country like a boss?! And while we ponder that, can someone please buy the woman a Bells. Actually, make it a triple – a fat finger for every one of my extra guests!

Anyway, being a total asshole comes naturally to me, so I didn’t hesitate to reply with this:

I also put screen shots of our communication on Facebook and my mom, who’s just as evil as I am, wasted no time in getting in on the action.

Anyway, since I’ve sent that mail it’s been radio silence. At one point I wasn’t sure if she was pondering an exquisitely polite and gracefully written way to disinvite me from the wedding or had experienced a sudden death from an extreme case of ‘WTF?! WHO IS THIS BITCH?!’ But as it turned out, Paige’s mom was as cool as a cucumber. I know this ‘cos Paige went over to her house last night and her mom didn’t bring me up once. Not once! I even messaged Paige to fish around. ‘Bring up my name and see what she says!’ I urged. So she did. And her mom didn’t flinch! ‘This woman is iron clad!’, said Paige.

So, clearly it was time to ramp things up a notch. Thus I mailed her this:

So! Long story short, I don’t think I’ll ever be invited to another wedding again, but ag wat. I’ve just reserved the hottest table in hell. But for now, we wait for a response and I’ll be sure to keep you posted should there be any ‘developments’, be it via e-mail or Mrs. Harris rocking up on my lawn with a chainsaw.

Love, love

Leigh

UPDATE:

Okay! So the player got played! Mrs. Harris replied this morning (I’m only posting her response now ‘cos I’ve been running around like a headless chicken) and, as it turns out, she was on to me from the get go and enjoying playing along to see how far I’d have to take it to get her to crack. Here’s the wicked woman’s response:

We’ve all had a good laugh but I will admit there was a point I got a bit anxious worrying I’d seriously upset her when she went all quiet. Little did I know she was having the best time ever, withholding her response to watch me squirm via ‘OMG! Has she said anything?!!!!’ messages to Paige. So ja. Well done Mrs. Harris, you cunning little snake, I guess I’ve met my match.

Speaking of which, here’s hoping she’s not joking about the 20 year old. My cradle-snatching rep is shamefully deserved, so let’s hold thumbs for a lekker dof maar mooi boytjie vars van model skool. Or, better yet, that I’m the girl who catches the bouquet! (When I get married it’ll be to a grown up, I promise.)

Love, love (again)

Leigh