1. The Plumber's Daughter Chapter 3


    Date: 8/24/2015, Categories: Fiction, Author: beagle9690, Rating: 90.2, Source: sexstories.com

    table, slowly circling them as he spoke. “How do you know you are Italian?” Patrick asked walking over and putting his hand on Dad’s shoulder before saying, “You can bench press 325 pounds. You have to shave twice a day and still cry when your mother yells at you. You know you’re Italian when you carry your lunch in a produce bag because you can't fit two capiccola sandwiches, 4 oranges,” Patrick took four oranges out of the bowl, two in each hand, and started juggling them as he circled, “2 bananas and pizzelles into a regular lunch bag,” and then Patrick tossed them one at a time to Father Joe who caught them was laughing while continuing to rattle off more Italian jokes. He stopped circling and put his hand on Father Joe’s shoulder asking, “How do you tell you are a true Italian? “To which Father Joe replied smiling, “Your mechanic, plumber, electrician, accountant, travel agent, lawyer and Priest are all friends or cousins.” Which got them laughing all over again and Patrick gave more examples “You are Italian if you have at least 5 cousins living in the same town or street and all your cousins are named after your grandfather or grandmother. You know you are Italian if you only get one good shave from a disposable razor. You know you are Italian when you net more than $50,000 on your first communion.” Patrick had them both of them laughing and slapping the table now. Mom and I were in the kitchen hugging one another and laughing near to tears; neither of us expected ...
    anything like this. Patrick must have heard us because he paused to listen and took a sip of wine before calling out, “Would you ladies like to join us and not strain your hearing?” Mom and came out of the kitchen and sat at the dining room table to join them. When we sat, Patrick refilled all our wine glasses. “You know you are Italian if someone in your family grows beyond 5'9", it is presumed his Mother had an affair. You know you are Italian because there are more than 28 people in your bridal party,” and Patrick took my hand and kissed it. “And you REALLY, REALLY know you're Italian when pointing to my father, “Your grandfather has a fig tree,” Dad replied and then Patrick pointed to me, “You eat Sunday dinner at 2:00 and on Christmas Eve only fish,” and then to my Mom, who pointed to my Dad before she said “You think your mom's meatballs are the best. Don’t tell your wife.” All eyes were on him as Patrick gave his finale as he spun Mom’s good china a dinner plate on the tip of his index finger as he circled us. “You know you are Italian because you've been hit with a wooden spoon or had a shoe thrown at you. You know you’re Italian because you think plastic on upholstered furniture is normal. You know you’re Italian when you fight over whether it's called,” and he cupped his ear for our response while continuing to spin the plate on his finger and we all replied together “Sauce or gravy.” You know you are Italian because you've called someone a mamaluke. Perhaps even your ...