When there were weddings in the family and I had to attend, I would hurredly have to find a partner. It was embarrassing because there are two old aunts in our family who think their role in the family is matchmaker. At weddings they would always come up to me and my partner , poking us in the ribs and with a wicked grin say, “You’re next!”
We had a week where someone in the family passed away and there was a wedding that same week. I invited Sherry as my partner and at the wedding the usual little pantomime took place, with the same two ancient aunts. They cackled and grinned lascivously as they poked first me, then Sherry in the ribs with the obligatory “You’re next!”
On the way home I applogised to Sherry. She laughed it off saying cryptically, “Every dog has their day.”
Later that week at the funeral, I was surprised when Sherry steered me towards the same two old aunts. But not as surprised as they were, when she grinned at them wickedly and said “You’re next!”
They never poked me like that again, or Sherry for that matter, which is ironic because she’s now my wife.