Unless the Monaco Royals decide to move up the funeral of Prince Ranier to tomorrow, Fred and Gladys (a/k/a Chuck and Camilla) will finally tie the knot.
Never mind that his dad plans to keep 'an engagement' in Germany in the evening (yikes, what a snub when your dad choses bratwurst over you!), that his mum nixed the sit-down candlelight meal for 700 and has replaced it with a stand-up of 'finger food' (think cucumber sandwiches sans crust).
Ignore the fact that neither of his parents will attend the actual wedding (in the local town hall after Windsor Castle had to be ditched or risk having to open it up to any yob who wanted to get married there).
Never mind that a host of Royals have other commitments and won't be attending - like the Prince of Sweden who has an extremely important engagement opening an IKEA store (yikes, bring on the bratwurst).
Forget the fact that a fluke weather system is moving in and SNOW and/or hail and other disgusting meterorological weirdness is forecast for tomorrow. England isn't noted for the weather right?? Even die-hard Republicans would have to admit that after a winter with nary a flake, Mother Nature seems to be a bit meanspirited about this.
And ignore the fact that those wedding souvenirs aren't selling. Guess no one wants to dry their dishes with tea towels festooned with the pics of Gladys and Fred. A few entrepreneurs have snapped up those with the April 8 date figuring that with 'errors', like with stamps or currency, their value will appreciate - I wouldn't order that private jet just yet though.
Forget all those constitutional experts pontificating as to whether the marriage is even legal or whether Gladys will be/could be/should be Queen. This is a love story where the only error seems to be that the groom married his trophy wife first.
Gladys and Fred first locked eyeballs in the summer of 1971 - a summer noted for the fact that Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep was number 1 on the Music Charts - where it sat for 34 weeks. Word is that as the 'finger-food' is passed around, Gladys and Fred will take a first dance to the strains of Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep.
TT readers, who can be forgiven for forgetting the song and its immortal lyrics, can CLICK HERE ready for a sing-a-long.
Of course, the wedding is still 24 hours away. Anything can happen. The Ranier funeral could be moved up. The Pope's funeral could exceed the 22 hourse currently scheduled or, genetics experts could point out that Gladys and Fred are apparently ninth cousins once removed (we always knew those royals were a chromosone away from maddness) and the jinxed nuptuals could be again thwarted.
Just in case, though - get out that copy of Chripy Chirpy Cheep Cheep!!! Orders for teatowels or mugs can be placed, before the gargantuan quantities disappear, at rootvegies@aol.com.