Italia

My sister Christy (who has, for the time being, changed her name to Christiana) is in Florence right now attending a month-long language school. It’s been fun to get e-mails from her about her various adventures and experiences. She’s such a free spirit. She seems to be immensely enjoying her newfound friends, the beautiful art of the city, and all the espresso she can possibly drink. Before she left I sent her a long e-mail reminding her to beware of the pick-pocket thieves and all the flirtatious Italian men out there whose reputations precede them. “And, whatever you do, don’t go out at night by yourself,” I wrote to her. Kevin told me I sounded just like a paranoid mother. What can I say? I’m protective of my little sis.
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I’ve just come down with another energy-draining head cold. This is my second cold of the season. I’m usually a very healthy little girl. So, I don’t understand why I’ve gotten sick again. Health is something that can definitely be taken for granted. Last night, as I was lying on the couch bemoaning the fact that I wasn’t feeling too keen, the doorbell rang. I was tempted not to answer it but got up to do it anyway. I opened the door and there stood one of the little boys from next door with a beautifully wrapped plate of hot, fresh coffee cake. “How sweet,” I told him. He just smiled back. “Did you make this?” He shook his head. “Did your mom make it?” He nodded. “Well, tell your mom ‘thank you very much.’” He just smiled again and, without saying a word, walked back toward his house.

As I ate my coffee cake last night, I realized that the very last thing I should be eating to boost my immune system is sugar. (Aren’t you proud mom? I should be a nutritionist!) But you simply have to understand – it’s not every day that I get fresh-out-of-the-oven coffee cake delivered to my door by such a cute little kid.