the love of an italian mother
Last night we went to dinner at an AMAZING Italian Villa that should be in a movie. I would attempt to describe it to you but I just wouldn't know how and anyway, it's not the point. It's the home of a VERY Italian family that my husband has become friends with. VERY ITALIAN. And while the group of 10 or so of us were all sitting down in the middle of the 2nd course of our fabulous home-cooked Italian dinner, drinking incredible Italian wines from their personal wine cellar and gazing out over their citrus grove and palatial pool, the mother walks out from the kitchen and passes her son a note at the table.
The note reads:
Why is there a rifle outside my laundry room door?
WHAT THE HELL?
I am not kidding. That is an EXACT quote. And I know that because I pocketed that note off the table the minute nobody was looking and it is now hanging on our refrigerator. I love the Italians.
(Don't be afraid - it wasn't an actual rifle. These aren't THOSE kinds of Italians. It was a spear gun the son uses for fishing that the mother isn't fond of so he leaves it around the house to piss her off.)
Posted by Poka Bean at 7:33 AM