What always comes before the nuptials, silly?

And it has been rolling around the back of my mind for some time now.

The problem is connotations.

Nuptials is a word that comes with some serious baggage — not unlike my Zegna Pelletessuta (no, you won’t have one of those because, if you did, I wouldn’t).

Also, in my world, nuptials usually comes with a prefix — and that would be pre.

And that, girlfriends, is when, for the first (and I think he now accepts, the last) time the fiancé baulked, double blinked and actually got a thoughtful, albeit fleeting, look on his face.

It is a problem with new money — if I were gauche it would be to view the nouveau riche with disdain — that it thinks it is the equal of real money (no-one dares use the word old in front of me).

I may not have previously explained, despite my reluctance to get too closely involved with my immediate family; there are exceptions.

And in my world those exceptions are politely referred to as trust funds.

Explaining why all daughters love their daddies — and also learn at an early age how to begin wrapping members of the opposite gender (the words daddy and sex never appear in the same sentence) around their little fingers.

But I digress.

I sat the fiancé down and assured him I personally wanted nothing to do with this crass sort of commercial contract, but darling, how can I say no to Daddy, it’s all his idea. He has always been so in charge, and he controls all the purse strings.

There was no need for the secondary man in my life to realise those purse strings were cut on my 25th birthday, giving me sole control. After all, he is a man, and can only absorb so much at a time.

Now don’t go feeling sorry for him; he’s not exactly bereft of funds himself and do I stop him spending vast sums on me? Of course not.

Some I know — the ones without trust funds mostly — suggest this approach turns love into something very clinical.

An observation I have always found slightly confusing. Isn’t being clinical the whole idea? If it were not, what comes next; the man in control?

Yes, I get the joke too.

Really girls, I am not sure why I need to spell this out to any of you. Men have their place and we know where that is.

So now he has learnt the real word is prenuptial, and while he has not yet signed the paperwork, I have already deleted this one from the pre-wedding spreadsheet.

Which gives me just a small window of time to finish what I started.

Dictionaries, as you would — or should — be aware, carry multiple meanings for virtually every word in the English language.

In the case of nuptials the second meaning is enough to make the hairs rise on the back of your neck: it also describes the mating, or mating season, of animals.

And that’s why the window was small.

We still have to make up from our little contretemps.

Which is why dictionaries are such handy little things at such times.

Ciao.