I remember once a friend asked me if living in Italy with Mama was anything like the TV show the Soprano’s. I had a good laugh over that but now I am starting to see how truly this question is not that far off the mark.
For the record, I’m not making this up, so here goes:
Uncle X has an affair with married lady, let’s call her “Y”. Uncle X is of course married and after 40 years Aunt Z kicks his butt out the door for the infidelity. Now, Uncle X is homeless and jobless and desperately in love with lady Y. He doesn’t have a house phone so he comes over to Mama’s (apparently the only living relative willing to open the door to him), to call his lover daily until finally lady Y’s husband finds out (he actually hired a private investigator for a month)!
Now caca hits the fan and Uncle X is depressed. Mama is stressed out with the daily visits from Uncle X and I keep having to wear a bra and/or bathrobe because he is always here at the oddest times of day! Why can’t she just not answer the door? Or better yet, tell him to get a phone installed in his house. Oh wait, that’s right, he doesn’t have one. He is living temporarily at cousin J’s. Are you following any of this?
All I need now is a priest, a gun and a shrink right? Oh, how could I forget, I’ve already got the shrink part covered, that would be me avoiding the straight jacket because apparently I am the one who is dysfunctional here…
So, is it any wonder that I am moving? The big question now is how fast can I get all my crap up all those stairs?