I am Italian.  Let me just admit it right here and now.  Sure, being Italian means I have a lot to say with my hands, with my emotions and I cry and hug all the time (I mean all the time!). Here’s just a small sample of the things that bring me to tears:

  • Pictures of my kids when they were little.  Especially those naked ones where I had all three in the bathtub playing with their Sponge Bob sponges.
  • Any athletic win (or loss) by my Wisconsin team!
  • Any movie where there is any semblance of love.
  • Any movie period.
  • Thinking of my kids going to college (crazy, I know!).
  • Music (except the rap stuff where I can’t understand the words or I understand the swearing words).
  • Almost any TV commercial.

I think as a kid, I hid the Italian nature of my being.  I never cried at Lassie films (although I did throw up at Jaws).  I pretended like nothing bothered me.  Yet, now, just a discussion of those movies makes me teary eyed.  I even cry watching “Extreme Makeover Home Edition,” when they come in and see all the time and effort put into their home!

Here are some other signs that I’m Italian:

  • You can not leave my house without taking food.  I really don’t care what kind of food you take from here but you can’t leave without something!  One time a friend liked some left overs that we had here that he even took my left overs for left overs!
  • Someone in my family in NY or Italy is wearing black every day, even years after the death of a relative … wait, that’s me!
  • You will find olives in a million containers in my fridge.
  • Chef Boyardee and Ragu are forbidden in my house.  In fact, we call red sauce – gravy.
  • I’m not afraid to serve pasta at a BBQ.
  • I’m hot headed … or “passionate” as I like to call it.

So, that’s me.  I’ve tried to change but to no avail.  What have I said a million times (gesturing loudly with my hands)?  Love yourself for who you are!

Have a great day!