Italian Mamma

The myth is real. Dragons may not really exist but, if they did in human form, they might be in the form of American Presidents, Communist Party leaders, Nazis, drivers who don't believe in signals, British guys who are too important and wrapped up in themselves to ask for a girl's number, or Italian Mammas. I recently had the pleasure of partaking in a four hour lunch and subsequent two hour nagging session at the home of a friend of mine. He cooked a fantastic amatriciana for three friends and his mother. The first two hours of her visit were pleasant: she lauded is cooking, his girlfriend's pictures, and my italian. It was grand. Maybe it was too much Falanghina in the afternoon, the oppressive Roman heat, or her extensive amount of energy but the nagging began and it didn't stop until my poor friend was forced to kick his mother out of the house for embarassing him in front of guests.

She cleaned his room, went through his drawers, admonished him for the way he lived, cleaned the bathroom. Hinted to him (in Italian of course) that he needed to take more control of his girlfriend (girlfriend does not speak Italian), and told him that although he has been studying for a few years- he'd never know what it was like to be a real student, to receive a diploma, or to have a real job. OUCH.

The myth is real. I love my mother.