Snotty

When we lived in Nebraska, our house backed right up to a lovely paved bike path.  It was one of my favorite parts of living there – you could walk or run or bike in either direction for miles.  If you turned right, from our house, you’d go about half a mile and come to a little shopping center with a sort of run down grocery store (although like everywhere in Nebraska, their steak was the best I’d ever ever eaten).  In the same shopping center there was a Pilates studio and an italian cafe, randomly, run by a man who was actually from Italy, spoke Italian, the whole deal.  I spent many a happy sunday afternoon there with a panini and an espresso.

Anyway, the year my whole family came to visit for Thanksgiving we were desperate for things to do with them and so we took a walk down the path to the cafe, and my mom, because this is just how she is, immediately started jabbering away with the owner in Italian, and my sister said, loudly, to all assembled “Are you speaking in Italian, or do you just have a head cold?”

My mom was NOT PLEASED.  But oh, I laughed and laughed.  I still laugh, every single time I think of that story, and now Erik and I say to each other, all the time, “Are you speaking in Italian, or do you just have a head cold?”

In other news, I don’t speak italian, but I totally do have a head cold.

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6 Responses

  1. ME TOO. I am on my 8th giant plastic mug of water for the day (8!) and I still feel thirsty. I really, really, dislike being sick.

  2. Same here :o(

  3. South Street in Lincoln? I knew you were originally from NE but didn’t know where for sure. Small world!

  4. YES! That’s Leon’s grocery. My hairdresser is right across the street. I knew you were talking about the city where I live as soon as you talked about the bike paths.

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