Buongiorno from Italy!
I am on vacation with the family, visiting a girlfriend in the beautiful islands. So far it has been a REALLY challenging trip (and I am being complimentary)! When we got to Paris, our confirmed seats for my whole family did NOT include me. So, we missed our connection flight and were rerouted through another city, had to take two more planes and wait an additional eight hours to arrive to our destination.
Of course my bags never made it so I have been wearing mixed and matched borrowed clothes from my friend’s family. Her daughter’s bathing suit bottoms, pants 2 sizes too big and her husband’s sweatshirt! I always always pack a few necessities in my carryon bag, just in case, which has been one of my best packing tips since my ‘Wild On’ days. But, of course, this trip I was so crazed packing for the entire family that I forgot about ME! The weather is crappy so we are chilling at home, which is probably best because I have 3 VERY grumpy jet lagged children. When traveling abroad, that’s always tough no matter what you do, and my “sure thing” sleepy allergy medicine (safe for kids) is of course in my LOST bag!
Yesterday, while driving with my girlfriend and our two daughters along a dark windy, busy Italian road, her car broke down. No reception to reach our guys, and along comes the Italian police who do NOT speak English. Except for “danger, don’ta starta engine, coulda be fire” – no shit, I thought to myself. They refused to push our car safely out of the way. They put up a sign on their car, who knows what it said, and didn’t even bother to direct the building traffic. All I could think about is the hundreds of Italian cop jokes I’ve heard and how this time the joke was on us. Then the two morons asked, “you hava helpa?” We tried to explain that there is a husband whom we cannot reach. Then, they said, “okaaaya, do not start engine, goodbya”.
We stood there in the dark with our 2 children a ditch. I am not exaggerating! I said “You’re not really going to leave us here are you?!” “yesa” they said. In my most American sarcastic tone I bitched, “Thanks a lot!” “Youra welcome” they sincerely replied and drove off. Too-da-loo doll-face would have been a more appropriate salutation. All I could squeak out was “buh-bye” as I stood there in the dark.
It was crazy, dangerous, unbelievable and like a scene out of a slapstick comedy. Good news is that the guys finally came to the rescue. All eight of us piled into my friend’s 5-passenger jeep and headed out to dinner. The kids passed out before arriving and we laughed all the way through dinner! Even when the waiter screwed up our order and delivered 3 extra pizzas, missed 2 Branzinos, and added an extra pasta… Oh well we thought. Thank G** we have a sense of humor.
I would attach a pic, but I DON’T HAVE ANY!
Brighter days are coming.
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