You Know You Are Italian When…

You know you’re Italian when…

You can bench press 325 pounds, shave twice a day and still cry when your mother yells at you.

You carry your lunch in a produce bag because you can’t fit two cappicola sandwiches, 4 oranges, 2 bananas and pizzelles into a regular lunch bag.

Your mechanic, plumber, electrician, accountant, travel agent and lawyer are all your cousins.

You have at least 5 cousins living in the same town or street. All five of those cousins are named after your grandfather or grandmother.

You are on a first name basis with at least 8 banquet hall owners.

You only get one good shave from a disposable razor.

If someone in your family grows beyond 5’9″, it is presumed his Mother had an affair.

There are more than 28 people in your bridal party.

You netted more than $50,000 on your first communion.

And you REALLY, REALLY know you’re Italian when:

Your grandfather had a fig tree.

You eat Sunday dinner at 2:00.

Christmas Eve . . . only fish.

Your mom’s meatballs are the best.

You’ve been hit with a wooden spoon or had a shoe thrown at you.

Plastic on the furniture is normal.

You know how to pronounce “manicotti” and “mozzarella.”

You fight over whether it’s called “sauce” or “gravy.”

You’ve called someone a “mamaluke.”

And you understand “bada bing.”