Thank Heaven for Little Boys



cottage, built in the year 600

While away for the weekend at the
Debellini's beautiful house outside of town I discovered my biggest mistake. After 20 very long minutes spent winding up crazy country roads in a warm car full of children shouting in Italian and excited dogs panting on my neck from the backseat, I was very, very car sick and fairly certain I was going to throw up at any moment. Italians drive like they have just remembered something is on fire in the oven at home. They barrel down roads that look they were made for vespas, around blind turns and sharp corners that are about half an inch away from taking the rear view mirrors off,  and all while keeping up a lively conversation. It's kind of incredible to watch. These people have no fear. So we finally made it to the house, I said a small prayer of thanks, and then soaked up how beautiful it was. The house was built in the year 1200. Can you even comprehend that, because I have trouble.


happy dogs who get to run and play

view on the way up the driveway

Okay. So what is my biggest mistake, you ask? I discovered when Margherita's friends started arriving for the party that I should have au paired for little boys instead of girls! Little boys love me. Little boys do fun things like play soccer, climb trees, sword fight with sticks...all things that I love too!


Francesco attempting to feed the interested Casablanca a leaf

I had wandered off to visit Casablanca, the horse, because after exhausting the few things I can say in Italian to the many Italian-only speaking adults at the party,  I got bored. I had only been down near the stables a few minutes when a sweet and polite little boy named Francesco approached me. He was very interested in my drawings and spoke English fairly well. I showed him how to feed a horse with your palm very flat so they don't accidently nibble on your fingers. We then sat together and drew pictures, and soon two other little boys had joined us, neither spoke English but one was in my lap in a matter of minutes and we were all laughing. Is it too late to change families? The girls I am responsible for teaching English to are rude, spoiled, and completely uninterested in me. I really do wish I could weasel into a nice family with boys who would be interested in me reading The Harry Potter books aloud to them. I've suggested it to the girls, but they are not interested in some book about wizards, they would rather talk about jewerly and watch some sort of Hannah Montana type show.



Casablanca and me