But I'm a Princess!

My husband is Italian. Well, he says half Italian and half Sicilian, but I still say that's 100% Italian. (Now that I've over-used the word Italian, let me do it some more.) 

Though hubby is the Italian, I'm the one traveling to Italy in the near future. Go figure.

My sister and I have planned this twin trip for two years. And we're not even twins.

My Italian delight is a sweetie, and is very excited for me. He says my enthusiasm is catching. So is my stupidity apparently: 

Me : "Do you think this suitcase is too old?"

Him: "I think its fine."

Me: "It's gray and old and it smells like...old."

*Laughs so hard he falls over the edge of the couch.*

Me batting lashes. " I found a real cute pink suitcase online."

Him grinning: "You said that about your backpack and laptop. That's enough pink."

Me: "Yeah. Plus you bought me pink sneakers for my birthday a coupl'a months ago." *Shrugs and hangs head* "Maybe dryer sheets will help the musty smell."

Him: "Okay princess, where's this suitcase you're talking about?"

*Taps furiously on laptop and points at this*:

Me:  "If you get me that, I'll bring you a souvenir from Italy. You name it."

Him: *Scratches chin* "Okay, but make sure she's at least 25." 

Me: "She'll be at least 70, gray, and musty smelling."

Him: "So will your suitcase, princess."

At this point, I lost a tickling match. And the pursuit of a pink suitcase without having to dip into my Italy savings. 

Yeah...that didn't quite work out.

 Yes. This was an actual scene in my life. Just thought I'd share one of the reasons I write romance. After twenty plus years, we still laugh together. And he still calls me princess. (Okay, so sometimes he calls me princess-demander-commander...but that's another story.) 

I need to end this post. He's tickling me with his kisses now. I just may get that suitcase. 

Seeing I'm a princess and all.

Ciao!

 photo courtesy of imagerymagestic at freedigitalphotos.com