We were in the car on a joint mission, pick up Son of Thor from centro estivo (they slotted on an extra week) and get me chocolate cos I'm a grumpy old woman.
To distract me from backseat driving Sock Dropper started to tell me about a radio show he was listening to that afternoon, something along the lines of how 15% of marriages in Italy today are mixed marriages, not the old style Southern bloke falls for Northern lass, but the more exotic Italian and "forrin" type. He was burbling on about this and saying that they were highlighting the problems that could happen so I arched an eyebrow and asked "So are you worried ?"
To which he replied "Me ?"
"Well you know, "mixed" marriages bringing their own issues to the table on top of the ususal stuff, are you afraid of being a statistic ?"
At this point an old biddy on a wobbly bicycle was at risk as he turned to gaze at me like I was a talking Martian.
"Wat da bloods hells you is speak abouuuut ?"
"you, you twit, being married to a "forrin" type, being in the 15% !"
He looked slighty stunned and then said "You have right ! Iz me also !!!"
So I'm a little perplexed.
Have I become so Italianized that he thinks I'm one of them now and has forgotten I'm "forrin" most of the time ?
Or is he under the impression it is typical of an Italian marriage for two people to yell at each other in their respective languages for an hour, only to discover that the entire row is based on somebody having utterly misunderstood what the other one said (in the "wrong" language) in the first place ?