It's finally quiet - Kids all decided to go out last night but didn't tell me they would be coming home so late. Since 3 of the four are adults and I trust them I don't really mind but as a mom I still worry when they're out. Guess it's just human nature.
Of course had I gone out at their age til this hour I would have gotten one of these:
followed by a grounding of an unspecified length of time and a flood of tears from my mother asking me how I could do this to her. I doubt my father would have cared how old I was - girls were not allowed out until they got married. Period. It's a wonder so many Italian girls got married. Let's face it - gone are the days when a gentleman caller knocks on the door and asks a man for his daughter's hand while she quietly sits in a corner mending a skirt. Most young girls probably don't even know how to sew anymore. There are no pigs to exchange, or dowry's to be promised in exchange for the union.
Keep in mind these rules only applied to us girls - they don't apply to the grandchildren. My parents often tell me I shouldn't yell at my kids so much and if I should dare ever attempt to hit one of them my father promises he will make me remember this day (a phrase he always used as a threat that a beating would be inevitable should we cross him.). Still makes me cringe. Of course I'm not sure if he notices but my kids are certainly not afraid of me. I think it's the uncontrollable fits of laughter they experience when I ask them to do something that makes me think this followed by "yea, ok, it a minute." That minute never comes of course.
Speaking of dowry's - I haven't purchased one single thing yet for my daughter which is fine since she's informed me she is going to marry rich and therefore doesn't need anything. Oh, and she's never going to need to work either because she's going to be too busy decorating the house to even think about working. Big dreams for a little girl. I wish her luck....
On that note, spent the last four hours extracting names in to a database which I hope to make searchable. I realized something - I hate entering data in to programs.
The Tragic Story of Little Willie McCallister
12 hours ago