Ok, I will admit that since becoming a part of CL I have come to have a dangerous case of "Italian envy." I have to remind myself that "holy" and "Italian" are not necessarily synonymous. Have pity on me, after all -- with the exception of some French Huguenots in the 16th and 17th centuries, I have a solid Nordic/Germanic pedigree, with a heavy splash of Celts, going back well into medieval times.
So, this is to, um, celebrate my friends the Italians. If anyone comes across something equally praiseworthy of Germans or Danes, please share!
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Italian kids vs: American kids
American kids: Move out when they're 18 with the full support of their parents.
Italian kids: Move out when they're 28, having saved enough money for a house, and are two weeks away from getting married....unless there's room in the basement for the newlyweds.
American kids: When their Mom visits them, she brings a Bundt cake, and you sip coffee and chat.
Italian kids: When their Mom visits them, she brings 3 days worth of food, begins to tidy up, dust, do the laundry, and rearrange the furniture.
American kids: Their dads always call before they come over to visit them, and it's usually only on special occasions.
Italian kids: Are not at all fazed when their dads show up, unannounced, on a Saturday morning at 8:00, and starts pruning the fruit trees. If there are no fruit trees, he'll plant some.
American kids: Always pay retail, and look in the Yellow Pages when they need to have something done.
Italian kids: Call their dad or uncle, and ask for another dad's or uncle's phone number to get it done...cash deal. Know what I mean??
American kids: Will come over for cake and coffee, and get only cake and coffee. No more.
Italian kids: Will come over for cake and coffee, and get antipasto, wine, a pasta dish, a choice of two meats, salad, bread, a cannoli, fruit, espresso, and a few after dinner drinks.
American kids: Will greet you with 'Hello' or 'Hi'.
Italian kids: Will give you a big hug, a kiss on your cheek, and a pat on your back.
American kids: Call your parents Mr . and Mrs.
Italian kids: Call your parents Mom and Dad.
American kids: Have never seen you cry.
Italian kids: Cry with you.
American kids: Borrow your stuff for a few days and then return it.
Italian kids: Keep your stuff so long, they forget it's yours.
American kids: Will eat at your dinner table and leave.
Italian kids: Will spend hours there, talking, laughing, and just being
together.
American kids: Know few things about you.
Italian kids: Could write a book with direct quotes from you.
American kids: Eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on soft mushy white bread.
Italian kids: Eat Genoa Salami and Provolone sandwiches on crusty Italian bread.
American kids: Will leave you behind if that's what the crowd is doing.
Italian kids: Will kick the whole crowds' ass that left you behind.
American kids: Are for a while.
Italian kids: Are for life.
American kids: Enjoy Rod Stewart, and Steve Tyrell.
Italian kids: Worship Tony Bennett, and Sinatra.
American kids: Think that being Italian is cool.
Italian kids: Know that being Italian is cool.
7 comments:
O. My. Wow!
I had no idea my mom was Italian. Her father was Polish, however, so maybe that explains it.
And yes, I lived with my folks on and off for many years. I moved out definitively 2 years before I got married at the age of 31...
And I always called my friends' folks mom and dad (but not so much, my inlaws)...
Italian envy?! We've come a long way, baby. When I was a kid, I could hardly imagine a Church where all the important people didn’t have names like McCormick, Hafey, and O’Brien.
As a half-Italian, daughter of a full-blooded Italian, I have to say that this made me laugh because it's so true.
This was fun reading! Did you write this?
Thanks for the smile.:)
+jmj+,
No, I didn't write it. This was one of those email "forwards".
My heart is with the Italians! This is funny to me because when I was a kid, I really did want to be Italian. And I still think they get a lot of things right. One question, though: Does any American call their parents Mr. and Mrs.?
My husband is teaching himself Italian with Rosetta Stone. It's a very nice language.
Sorry, I get it now. Americans call *your* parents Mr. and Mrs., not theirs! Duh, Laura!
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