Authentic

In a (Gazelle) bike shop in Antwerp, Belgium.

My husband (to the shop assistant): ‘I would like a bike for myself – what do you recommend?’

Shop assistant: ‘Now, that I look at you, the Heavy Duty model for sure.’

My husband: ‘Heavy Duty – very authentic. Describes my whole existence. Let’s find a bike to my wife, too. Do you have also models like ‘Easy Life’?’

Chuck

Me (to my husband, leaving the restaurant): ‘Aren’t you cold?’

He: ‘Of course not! It’s because I am a Very Tough Guy.’

Me: ‘I see. Shall we call a taxi home or rather walk?’

He: ‘Uhh, rather taxi, no walk.’

Me: ‘Pardon? Didn’t you say you were a Very Tough Guy?’

He: ‘Eeeehmmm.. of course I am. Only I feel sorry for the pavement..’

A regular Sunday evening home – each member of our family communicating in his/her own temper.

Me (exhausted): ‘I’ve been suspecting for a while that our children have inherited some secret Italian genes..’

My husband: ‘I would love to talk to you about it only I cannot hear what you’re saying..’