Sunday Morning, 8.30.
The usual walk with Cucciolo after a lazy waking up in the fog, protected by my hooded sweatshirt, that it says something like: “Right, I’m still quite sleepy” but it also says: “I feel so energetic”. Cucciolo eagerly sways along his usual path that, in this period, is full of smells by dogs on heat; so, for any reason, he could think to deviate from it, obviously. In a mechanical and careful way, counting every single inch, he traces every single usual spot several times per day. Along the way, we meet Mrs.Anna and her dog Briciola (Crumble), an aged dog, more or less the same as Cucciolo, a bit overweight because of too many cookies, but with a smart and cute face. Anna knows me from ages: in the past we would meet at early morning and during lunch break, when I had to walk Cucciolo when he was alone at home. We would talk a lot, about my job, about her life: you know, that kind of relationship established between two or more people who own a dog. In the end, easily these people turn into a pleasant habit during the day, and eventually every single talk is kinda zen philosophy or also pulpits to discuss about politics and religion.
While Anna is busy giving cookies to Cucciolo and Briciola, here they come , we saw them approaching, a couple of Anna’s friends, two ladies of about 60/70 years old, this time without dogs, as they’re heading to church to attend the very first Mass of the day (Oh Gosh). They stopped with us just to have a few words. Then, all of a suddden, the smartest and devoutest lady, while smiling, says: “I always find that you talk so much…You look like those mommies at city parks with their kids…!” Well, there are some moments when I clearly realized that I’m not totally sure of what I’m about to say, if I’m to make a gaffe, if my comment is to be untimely of if I’m to be too aggressive, but I was definitely feeling that was one of those moments. In a fraction of a second I feel it coming, but I can’t react to it. So I say with a 32teeth smile and with my index finger lifted up as if I was a pain-in-the-neck teacher: “…But with the only difference that animals are cutier than kids…!” OH-MY-GOD! How could I dare to speak like this??:-) Anna, that is always by my side, especially when I’m involved in such issues, because I make her laugh a lot, suddenly starts to laugh out loud while saying to her friend: “Here you are…See this girl?…So rude, uh?” I turned my eyes to this lady too, that is now the Scream Mask: “Nooooooo…How can you say like this, Ms.?….” I was thinking that she may has had the same reaction also in case I had offended her mother. All in all, one could see that I was just making a joke, and that it wasn’t my intention to start a serious discussion. “Well, I don’t like kids so much, and if I have to compare with animals…The competition is zero as I prefer animals indeed…”
“But Why??…So, take into conisderation the chance you meet the right guy in the future, so you don’t want to create a family with him, at least to have just 1 baby?…” I answer right after: “Well, I’ve got a guy and we think the same way about this: we are not interested to create a family with kids, We may instead put together a farm with different animals like horses, cows, dogs…”. Then the lady, quite exhausted:-) finds the strenght to whisper these words: “But…A couple without children..What’s the point? What’s the point for a whole life without any children??…” I just laugh and I say: “Oh Mrs. in the whole world we are more than 6 billions of people: I’d say that the fellas out there should thank me for not overcrowding our Planet Earth with other kids!! Are you joking?…”:-D Then, this lady, as if she was made blind from some mean entity, I see that she look for her silver crucifix around her neck.
Then Anna, with teasr from laughing in her eyes, in order to destroy the reputation of Simone’s family, just take some minutes to explain to this lady who I am, where I live, who Simone is and his relatives form ages, and it feels that the whole family could have been swept away from the so called “good people”. I feel like damn’ hail that everybody hates:-) Then she suddenly get who I am and the whole Simone’s family, seeing before her eyes also his family tree, and as a last, desperate try, she gaze at me and says: “But, if Simone has any siblings, do you mean that his mother is condemned to not have the joy of a nephew or niece??!…” Unacceptable:-D Eventually I find myself acting the same as in some Scrubs’ episodes, when J.D. is lost in his fantasy world, so that I frown the right eyebrow looking above, stay still some precious seconds to make some expectations, then I go down again on the lady’s face and I answer: “Well…I guess you’re right..Mmmh, that’s life..:-)”. Then I laugh out loud again.
Yes, I’m The Malignant who crossed your road during this holy Sunday, maybe to prove yor faith, maybe for a venial sin committed yesterday. Who knows? We’ll never know.
The fact is that Anna and I stayed there laughing while the two ladies slowly trottered to church, still talking to me with words like: “Don’t say that, Ms: you’ll have loads of regrets…Think twice…”. Well, I would expect to hear different words like : “May the Lord be with you, May God help you in redenction”. I was disappointed. They weren’t professional preachers, obviously.
These are the Sundays I like best.
B.
“Who’s knocking at the door?…Can’t see with the sun in my eyes…”
“Official” portrait with auntie Elda, while asking to my granny to look at me without moving, and obviously she was joking me:-)
August, a snapshot taken with my mobile, in the kitchen-garden, while my granny was trying to figure out what was going on…She wasn’t convinced at all:-)
“Come on granny, don’t laugh, put a serious face on!”
Siesta after the birthday cake on her favourite armchair that was, unfortunately, also Bernardo’s favourite:-)
Watching a print of a photo taken some time ago:”Who is this woman?”
Gossip and News Time: weekly update on the most relevant facts of the neighbourhood, reported with all the possible details by Gina (my mom and her daughter):-)
“I guess this is the recipe of the Schiacciata alla Fiorentina (Florentine Cake)..Where did you find it?…Let me see…”
“You’re a bit “araba”, honey..”
“Here you are, gorgeous chatelaine in your kitchen-garden! Smile at me!”
Post Office, 6.30pm.
