I remember when I was about ten years old, I was at my neighbor’s house playing when she called me inside and told me to sit down, she wanted to talk to me about something, “very, very important.”
I was ten, I was nervous, I was thinking one of two things: one, I did something very wrong- maybe she knew that once I a little bit peed in her pool? Or two, maybe my mother died in the one hour since I had gotten there and she was going to tell me before I went home and discovered it on my own.
She put out two kinds of cookies, this was a very bad sign, Vienna Fingers and that one chocolate cookie that was almost an Oreo, but it wasn’t, what were those called? She sat me down at the kitchen table, right across from her framed picture of Tom Selleck, looked me right in the eye and said very confidently…
“I am going to tell you something very, very important, and I never want you to forget this in your entire life…never, and I mean ever, marry an Italian- I don’t care how much you think you love him, never do it. Ever. Do you understand what I am saying to you?”
You MUST read the Neapolitan Series if you haven’t already! Oh women and the complicated relationships that we keep- and oh, what we let define us!