If this doesn't just about sum up the difference between boys and girls. She's expanding her mind with a worthy piece of literature, as she gazes over at the Object of Her Affection. But he doesn't notice, because he is immersed in an article about..
Yup: that's right. The World Cup.
England vs. United States, tomorrow night. Everything will stop.
Thinking back to four years ago: I happened to be in Italy, on a lake. Salvatore and Valeria rent a summer place, half an old crumbling villa outside Rome, and we were with a large group of friends, watching the game, live, along with the rest of the town, it seemed, projected onto a sheet hung between two trees holding up the wicker roof of the one restaurant on the lake. Italy against France.
Valeria is a lawyer, a wise woman and true friend, and yet, between us, we couldn't figure out what the hell was going on, and everyone else was too excited to explain the rules of the game. We were kind of speculating ('What was that? Was that a point?' 'I think it was a penalty.' 'What's a penalty?' 'No idea.') Everyone was screaming, cursing in Italian, people jumping up and down. People screaming at them to stop blocking the screen. Even their daughter Marcella, and Luigi and Guilia's daughter Eleanora, understood the game better than we did. All this going on, of course, in Italian. Valeria was the only human being unhysterical enough to speak to me in English.
Suddenly, a French guy kind of head butted an Italian guy, and THAT we understood: game over. Italy beat France. It was like the end of World War II. I found myself being bear-hugged by the little wife of the restaurant owner, lifted off the ground, and suddenly there were fireworks, horns blowing.. I was in the midst of one of those charming Italian films.
Can someone tell me: what is it about boys, and their balls?