I recently joined Jillian, Bella, Isabelle, Jasmine and several other friends in the Ontario Northlands for a spectacle known as a ‘Double Wedding’. Two beautiful sisters marrying two strapping young men, in one beautiful summer afternoon of celebrations.. and libations. Jillian has taken the lead on detailing this marvellous weekend, and many of the antics that occurred already. One particular vignette that has been left in my (some would say incapable) hands, is that of how Madam Sadam came to be.
For those of you that don’t know Nancy personally – she is most definitely of Aryan stock: Blonde, blue/grey eyed, pale as hell. Definitely not the type of girl that is easily mistaken for a Middle-East Dictator, but I digress.
The festivities of the wedding reception were carrying on late into the evening, as to be expected, and a distinctly rowdy tone was taking over. Northern Ontarians sure know how to party – there were even people tailgating in the parking lot outside the reception prior to dinner. As the night wore on, it became time to toss the bouquets and fling the garter belts. Unfortunately, some amount of haze surrounds this point of the evening for me, so I can’t really remember why – but the boys had some sort of an ‘act’ for the Garter tossing ceremony, and it involved moustaches.
Ahh… glorious Mo’s. What event isn’t greatly improved by the influx of a few portable ‘staches? After the crowd dispersed, and Jillian completed her mating dance, I somehow got my hands on one of the stick-on moustaches. Much fun was had with the moustache, Jillian even turned it into a Uni-brow (points for creativity). Eventually, it landed where it belonged all along, on my upper lip in all its moustachy glory. And then this happened:
Jillian discovered this photographic gem when we were back in the hotel room, and only showed it to me under the express understanding that I would not delete it. I think we giggled for almost an hour. After some of the tears were wiped away and we attempted to properly review the photo, the following conversation ensued:
J: You look like Saddam Hussein’s brother!!
N: No, I look like Saddam Hussein.
J: Haha, Madam Saddam!
More giggling. Much, much more giggling. Giggling even continued through brunch the next day, and at the BBQ the next evening. Viewing of the photo is often met with a Gasp and an ‘OH, Nancy!’ Personally, I think this is a great thing for my self confidence and my general outlook – everything is UP from here, I couldn’t possibly look worse!
Where did those chins come from?? And what is that look on my face? Gold star for me though, as you can see I’m toting a water bottle, which was clearly a wise move at this juncture in the evening.
I’m posting the photo, despite my claim of anonymity, confidently knowing that I’m unrecognizable in my guise of Madam Saddam. Who knows, knowing my social life, maybe the Madam is more recognizable to her peers than Nancy herself?