Most Italians recognise this date as the title of a
famous Lucio Battisti song ‘29 settembre’. For others, it has its own
special significance being Berlusconi’s birthday (born in Milan 1936). It is
also my wedding anniversary. 5 years ago me and Marco and Eve got married.
In May we found a nice place to have the reception,
invited the people we wanted and then forgot all about it… Did not want to be
stressed.
It was about 4 weeks before the wedding when Marco said
to me, ‘So, have you got something to wear? Have you got a dress?’
‘Dress?! Yes, Right…No!!’ I hadn’t even thought about it.
I’d also completely forgotten about organising a bouquet
and woke up the morning of my wedding with no flowers. Luckily my neighbour had
given me a bunch of roses the evening before so I grabbed some of those, cut
off a few olive branches from the garden and tied the whole lot up with string.
I went to the hairdressers at 9 o’clock that morning and
said, ‘Can you do me something for a wedding.’
‘Oh that’s nice, who’s getting married?’
‘Me!’ The hairdresser rolled her eyes and sighed. Apparently
you’re supposed to do trials and makeup and hair accessories and all that. Pazienza!
But I arrived at the church feeling so relaxed and
unstressed (funny dress and hair but I survived that too). Marco had turned up,
Eve was there looking like a frilly little ballerina, my little niece and
nephew were looking lovely too. Everyone was happy, my lovely friends had decorated
the church and were ready to sing for us and our very great friend Bishop Eric
was there to do the deed.
It wasn’t until after the service that I realised two
friends who’d come from England were missing and had obviously got lost on
their way from the hotel to the church. Whilst everyone moved on to the
reception Marco, Eve and I (still in silly dress) drove to their hotel to pick them
up. We didn’t realise until we got there that another disaster had happened. My
mother-in-law (I’m sure as some kind of twisted vendetta for having married her
son J)
had gone off with ONJI in her pocket.
Now those of you who don’t know Eve very well won’t
necessarily know what ONJI is and how completely essential he/she is to her
whole being. Some children have a favourite teddy, some have a little comfort
blanket. Eve had an orange table napkin(long story)which became her best friend
when she was a few months old. She is devoted to it and cannot live without it.
My mother-in-law had been looking after Eve during the service had put ONJI in
her handbag and then gone off afterwards without giving it back.
So there we were, squashed in the back of the car whilst
poor Eve was having convulsions. She was 17 months old, very cute but
particularly bad tempered. My lovely white dress was being covered with little
black footprints as she kicked and struggled and screamed for ONJI. When we
arrived near the part in the old town where are reception was Marco parked the
car and decided for some reason that I never really understood (must have been
our first argument as a married couple) that he and our two friends would go on
ahead whilst I walked with Eve. It was quite a steep old cobbled street and
they quickly disappeared leaving me to deal with my daughter.
Picture the scene: Saturday afternoon in old town Genoa, a 40 year old woman struggling up a steep
cobbled lane in silly shoes, hitching up a ridiculous white dress with one hand whilst trying
to contain a struggling screaming infant who she’s got shoved under the other.
I
finally arrived... the last one to arrive at my party, with a dirty dress, sweating, cursing and determined to
get revenge on my mother in law.
ONJI was promptly recuperated and all was
well.
Moral to the story: have children before you get married or, alternatively, don't invite them to the wedding.
On a lighter note, I'd like to wish Berlusconi many happy returns of the day… 76 years old and still going strong…I'm sure he's had a nice day . He has a certain
talent at organising parties and I’m sure he wouldn’t have let his birthday
slip by without a bit of a do.
