I go to one of the seven weddings that I have been attending for the past one week.
Everybody looks at me and says "When are you gettting married?"
Old aunties know a dozen men waiting to be cornered by winsome lasses.
Dejected and bored, I take a seat next to a kid.
I ask him, "Which class are you studying in?"
He answers "Class 3. Which class are you in?"