Childfree Weddings Make Me Sad
We live in a society that increasingly compartmentalizes fun
Eighteen months ago, I didn’t know childfree weddings were a thing. I’ve since been invited to three and attended two.
I can think of quite a few good reasons for excluding children from one’s wedding. They’re expensive, for one. I’ve been told they typically cost the same as any full-grown guest, even if they sit on their parents’ laps, don’t drink alcohol (we hope), and eat only a fraction of what their adult counterparts consume.
Children can also be disruptive. They make noise at inopportune times. They spill things. They sneeze, cough, and cry with abandon.
All couples have the right to choose their own guest list, to set the terms of who they’re willing to pay for and how much potential for chaos they are willing to endure.
I myself got married in a rustic cluster of cabins, 11 miles off the nearest paved road and four hours from the nearest major airport. In making this choice, I inadvertently precluded my grandmother from attending. The best man also left a day early because his wife couldn’t stomach the prospect of taking a shower outdoors. But I wanted a wedding with a beautiful view that wouldn’t cost an arm and a leg — for us, and also for our guests, many of whom camped in…
