I hate to say this. I'm almost glad we are leaving for Rome today. Not because I don't love it here. Not because we aren't having fun. No... not even because of the luggage (which I am sure you will be shocked to hear is at the Naples airport, where we will have to now go out of our way to pick it up. When the guy I talked to Saturday seemed skeptical it would be delivered... He said, "Madame, tomorrow is Sunday," I decided to have them hold it there. Better safe than waiting, or worse -- missing our luggage again.)
I'm happy because, if we don't leave soon, these mosquitoes are going to eat me alive. Mom hasn't been bothered by them, but I have at least eight, including several on my knuckles. Have you ever had a mosquito bite on your knuckle? Decidedly not cool. Last night as I was going to bed, this cartoon popped I to my head. I'll share...
Two suave looking Italian mosquitoes are flying around as church bells clang in the distance. One looks at the other and asks if he's hungry and wants to get a bite to eat. They hem and haw over what they're in the mood for, when they run into a third friend, flying slowly, rubbing his stuffed belly.
"Giuseppe, where have you been, my friend? We were just heading to dinner, would you care to join us?"
Giuseppe, slightly out of breath, responds in his squeaky Joe Pesce-esque voice...
"Luigi...," he gasps, "Francesco...," he puffs, trying to keep up, "If your are hungry, you must come with me! I found this great new American place in Massa Lubrense. The food is delicious!"