Of course if there is a video in the world about the amazing sex appeal of Italian men my husband will find it and spend the rest of the day peacocking around the house as if the video was made as a personal attribute to his amazingness. This is something I’ll never understand. Probably because Americans don’t have this reputation. Our idea of romance in the US usually looks something similar to the mating rituals of injured chimpanzees. Even Channing Tatum roles, the sweetest “guy I want to marry” type, usually wins over his onscreen love interest with impressive dancing, or punching the shit out of another dude in a “I am lion king and only I shall mate with her” sort of way. Or in The Notebook where the super hot guy wins over the main babe by actually hanging from a bar like a monkey until she tires and accepts his offer. There is also this dude in the video I posted below who is terrified of a girl he likes and refuses to talk with her but, “if only he were Italian” he would offer a stare down followed by a pounce in the park. Which seems strangely attractive and is probably the reason that so many expats are married to Italian men. So, I suppose, my husband can boast for this. For a minute. Until he does something weird (like denying the existence of salmonella) and gives me a reason to make fun of him again.