Having a Calabrian father-in-law takes some adjustments.

- No matter how much you eat, it is never enough.

- You have to learn a new language to communicate, and I’m not talking about Italian.

- And no matter how hard you try you might never-ever!-decipher his hand gestures and grunts.

But all that aside, having a Calabrian father-in-law really takes the torta.

And here is why.

1. It is never boring

I’ve written a lot about how funny Italians are, especially my Calabrian suocero, Nino who told his sister he prays for me every night … because he is worried I don’t eat enough.

He also called the weather a bastard and told me I’ve given his son a disease, when my husband refused another piece of chicken and more broccoli … and a few weeks ago, he did it again.

My husband was serving guests at our bed and breakfast and one of them walked outside to enjoy the crisp Calabrian air. I heard my father-in-law mumble something under his breath, followed by a classic “Nino” grunt.

“What did you say?” I asked, thinking he was speaking to me.

“Ah, nothing.” He grumbled. “I thought that was Peppinuccio outside in shorts-but it is not. It is some other asshole!”

2. Every day is a gift day

Likely in an attempt to offset the fact that, at least in his mind, I don’t eat enough, every other day or so is “gift day.” Like many Calabrians, my father-in-law goes grocery shopping every day and almost every day he comes back with a surprise for me.

Check out the loot I got last week. Two Nutella Snacks (with tea), a three-pack of Pocket Espresso and a Kinder Sorpresa. What is not pictured is the two-pack of Gran Soleil desserts. Yum!

3. You can’t pull one over on him

I considered posting a photo to help you visualize my Calabrian father-in-law experience, and like any blogger worth her WordPress widgets, I asked my subject’s permission.

“Nino,” I began slowly. “I would like to put a picture of you on … ilmiosito … , ok?”

“What?” He asked. You know, he doesn’t hear well.

“A picture. Of you. sulmiosito.”

He looked at me, not smiling.

So I bargained.

“If you let me use your picture, I’ll eat meat. Every day.”

“Watch out,” my husband warned.

“Every day this week,” I clarified quickly.

He looked at me.

“Well,” I told my husband in English. “He didn’t say no.”

Nino’s head jerked up.

“No?” He repeated the one word he’d understood correctly.

“But I’ll eat meat every day.” I told him. “Please?”

“You’re tricking me,” he told me. “You can’t trick me!”

And that was that.

So, dear blog readers, I’m sorry, but you will have to continue to visualize my 70-something year old father-in-law, with his white hair, neatly combed back, his thin-rimmed glasses and gruff grin until I can convince him to pose.

Or you could just come visit us at our bed and breakfast. He shows up here from time to time, too.

Are your in-laws from a different culture than you? What are some of your favorite moments or stories?

Little old men in southern Italy have been making homemade wines since they could walk, unfortunately, after taste-testing the different kinds of homemade wine … you can’t walk.

And that is pretty much where I was a few weeks ago when I agreed to go on an interpreting trip to Basilicata to help some fellow Calabrians communicate with long-lost American relatives.

Nice picture, eh?

Well, see that little ole man standing on the right? Let’s just say Ernest and Julio should have outsourced to Potenza, because this signore here has acres after acres of fresh grapes, sprouting on the vine, anxious to pop and share their wine-making juices with the world.

Since I was a special guest , he gave me one of his handmade baskets and let me fill it to the brim with fresh grapes.

Oh yea … those baskets are handmade. You have to be resourceful when you make this much wine.

Apparently, he used to sell most of it, but today, it is just a labor of love for him, his wife of 62 years and his children, grandchildren and special friends.

I like most homemade wines and love when the vino novello comes out each fall. What about you? Do you like homemade wines or are you more of the older-is-better type of wine connoisseur?

Just like everything else where you have to take the good with the bad, living in Italy-and learning its romantic, sing-song language, has its bad side.

photo credit: stevendepolo

Luckily for me, the bad side is the fun side. A few months ago, Jessica at Why Go Italy listed her 8 favorite Italian curse words and later followed up with 12 more words from her Reader’s Choice.

And yes … those are good ones. But just for fun, here are 3 of my most sinfully favorite curse word expressions in Italian that you could, but shouldn’t let your mamma hear you say.

1. Ma che cazzo

Most often muttered when someone does or says something you don’t understand and partnered with the uplifted pinched fingers. It means, “what the F&ck are you talking about?”

And it is fun to say.

2. Porca puttana

Put “porca” in front of a word and it automatically gets dirtier. In this case, porca puttana or “pig whore,” can be used you are mad about something … like, “The airline tickets are double what we paid last year. Porca puttana!”

3. Puttana d’ Eva

This was one of the first Italian curse expressions I learned and it just goes to show how much the human race-or at least, the Italians, blame Eve for their maladies.

While calling Eve a whore is never a nice thing, the whole idea behind getting pissed at Eve because you drop your book (or any other little thing you do where you would normally say “damn”) is just plain funny.

Although I don’t use this expression often, it always makes me smile. Yes, I know where I’m going …

But what about you? Do you tend to curse more in another language than you do in English? What are some of your favorites?