The woman circled in red is me: My name is Maureen.

The groom is my son: His name is Bobby.

The bride, her name is Sherry. I don't know much about her. Except that her and my son have only known each other for 3 months. Bobby tells me she's a part-time hair dresser.

And with that wedding dress, I'm adding full-time slut to that list.

Yes, I disapprove of my son's wedding. I think he is making a big mistake. But it's not that that burns me inside.

But the fact is, I have been married to my husband for 23 years now. (He is the man to the left of me wearing the glasses and mostache.)

The number of times I have caught him masturbating in the 23 years we have been together?

Zero.

The number of times I have caught him masturbating since Bobby brought Sherry home to meet the family?

Six.

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