Groom’s Mother Kicks Out Bride’s Poorly Dressed Parents at Wedding; She Barely Recognizes Them Later.

A snooty mother is furious when her son wants to marry a poor girl and excludes her parents from the wedding because they do not appear posh enough.Clara Wellington was appalled when her son returned home from college and announced his intention to marry a poor girl from Montana. “But, who are her parents?” she inquired. “What do they do?”

“What does it matter?” her son Brad inquired. “I love Frannie, and that is all that matters to me.” Clara squeezed her lips together. Of course, birth and class mattered greatly! At least for Clara, they were everything!When Clara and her husband, Brad Senior, met Frannie Heckle and her parents, all of her worst fears were validated.

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Clara assumed the Heckles were what her father-in-law would have described as’salt-of-the-earth’ folks, but not who she wanted as her son’s in-laws!Mr. Heckle was a large, strong guy dressed in a light blue suit with pouched knees and elbows, while Mrs. Heckle preferred excruciatingly bright flowery home skirts and white plastic shoes.

Clara shuddered. They would have to do something about their attire! She didn’t want them ruining the wedding by looking like the hicks they clearly were! She stated this to her husband, and his response startled her. “Leave them alone, Clara,” Brad Senior stated in a chilly tone he rarely used toward her. “Brad adores this girl, and these are nice, genuine folks that care about him. It doesn’t matter what they are wearing!”

Clara was enraged by her husband’s inability to recognize how critical it was to make the correct impression, to offer the appropriate picture. Her son will one day be a wealthy man with a place in the city’s upper class. Don’t pretend to be someone you aren’t, and don’t deny your heritage.People would talk about this wedding for years, and Clara was determined that it would be a complete success, with no snarky remarks or criticism of her only son’s wedding.

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Clara invited Mrs. Heckle and Frannie out to lunch and carefully explained to them the importance of what they wore. “Mrs. Heckle, I believe you should reconsider your image.” You should go to Bloomingdales; there are some reasonably priced off-the-rack outfits that will give you and your husband the perfect look.”

Frannie and her mother exchanged looks. “I can’t afford things like that, Mrs. Wellington,” Mrs. Heckle stated firmly. “I already bought my dress.” Clara squeezed her lips together. “Well, Mrs. Heckle, I just wanted to talk to you about it because there IS going to be a dress code!” Mrs. Heckle scowled. “I’ll wear what I like, and no one will tell me different!” she blurted out.

“Well, since I’m paying for the wedding, I beg to disagree!” Clara snapped. Things may have gotten quite ugly if Brad hadn’t arrived right away and put a damper on the discussion. But Clara had an idea. “Why don’t I just get help to take out the trash?” she thought to herself. She had a strategy, and it was implemented on the wedding day. Mr. and Mrs. Heckle arrived to the Wellington estate (the wedding was to be place in the garden) and were met by a security officer dressed in a smart black suit.

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When the security guard saw Mr. Heckle’s checkered brown suit and Mrs. Heckle’s flounced polka dot dress, he halted them. “Excuse me,” he said gently, “I’m afraid you can’t go in.” “We are the bride’s parents!” Mr. Heckle spoke. “We have to go in.” “I’m sorry, sir,” the security guy replied. “But there is a dress code and I was instructed not to let anyone not in compliance in…””What do you mean?” Mr. Heckle said angrily. “I want to see Mr. and Mrs. Wellington!”

The security guard cringed when he saw Mrs. Heckle’s bright pink and yellow print outfit. “Mrs. Wellington warned me some trashy people would try to get in, I’m acting on her direct orders!” “Trashy?” exclaimed Mrs. Heckles. “What do you mean trashy?” The security guard gave Mr. and Mrs. Heckle a mocking look. “If you have to ask…” he said with a sneer, “Now off with you, back to the trailer park you escaped from!”

Mrs. Heckle began to cry, and Mr. Heckle wrapped his arms around her. They were leaving their own daughter’s wedding because the security guy called them trailer trash! Brad Senior came just then. “What’s going on?” he said, and when the security man explained, he became enraged. “Come with me,” he urged to the Heckles before leading them inside.

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He brought them upstairs to his dressing room, where he handed Mr. Heckle one of his tuxedos before entering Clara’s wardrobe and pulling out a stunning dress and shoes. “Here,” he instructed Mrs. Heckle. “It might be a bit big on you, but it should be alright!” Twenty minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. Heckle entered the silk tent where the wedding would be held, and Clara didn’t recognize them at first, then gasped.

Mrs. Heckel was wearing an Armani dress that she hadn’t even worn before!That was her dress! Clara opened her lips to argue, but then she noticed the expression in her husband’s eyes. She smiled nicely and nodded at the Heckles, and the wedding march started playin

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“Frannie,” he announced. “I’d want to welcome you to our family. You are everything I hoped my kid would find in a wife: a lovely, loving woman. That means more than everything else, including money. “But in case you’re concerned, let me assure you that marrying poor females is kind of a family tradition. Brad, when I married your mother, she didn’t have two cents to rub together! “She was not even wearing shoes!”

Clara listened in terror, and as the high society people around her began to peer at her and giggle, she turned and hurried out of the tent and into the garden. She had never felt more embarrassed in her life! She was sobbing on a garden bench when she felt a soothing touch on her head. “Mrs. Wellington?” Clara looked up and noticed Frannie looking down at her. “Please, don’t cry, it’s OK!”

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“I’m so humiliated…” Clara wailed. “The things Brad said…” “You should be proud of your origins, Mrs. Wellington,” Frannie stated calmly. “I think you are a very elegant woman. I still have a lot to learn, and I know if I can learn as well as you, Brad will be pleased of me.”Clara gazed at Frannie’s sweet, sympathetic expression and remarked, “Frannie, there is nothing I can teach you.

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You are already more courteous than I have ever been, and Brad is already impressed with you.”Frannie smiled. “Nevertheless, I want us to be friends,” she went on to say. “You see, we both love Brad more than anything and that is a wonderful thing to share!” Clara returned to the tent on Frannie’s arm, faced the sneaky stares of her wealthy friends, and danced all night. Toward the end, her feet were sore, so she removed her shoes and didn’t care what people thought.

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