About every six months, the big grocery store outside town has a promotion where you get little stamps -- called "bollini" -- with your purchases -- one stamp for every 15 euros you spend. Then you can redeem the stamps for prizes. We are currently saving up to get a Bosch multi-tool for 45 bollini.

The cashiers give out the stamps and clearly have some leeway in this. We have found that if we are polite and friendly, we are often rewarded with an extra stamp or two. And almost all the cashiers will round up if you are within 3 or 4 euros of the next amount to get another stamp. It is fun and friendly.

But there is one cashier who is never fun and friendly no matter what the circumstances. In fact, he is often actively hostile -- slamming your bag of potato chips down on the conveyor belt with particular ferocity, for example. We don't go to him no matter how short his line is. And it is often very short.

But yesterday, Jonathan ran down on his bike to get a couple of bottles of vodka for the limoncello we are making. It was a very slow time of day (post-lunch nap time) and the mean guy was the only cashier working. The total for the vodka came to 29 euros and change -- less than one euro short of the 30 needed to get two bollini. Any other cashier would have rounded up, but the mean guy gave Jonathan just one, which was technically correct. "Technically correct," of course, is the worst kind of correct and, moreover, seems to violate the entire spirit of Italy. It's practically unpatriotic.

But, fine. Whatever.

Jonathan came home with the vodka and the one stamp and I pasted it onto our little stamp sheet.

A couple of hours later, we were together in the kitchen making the limoncello. 

"What's that?" Jonathan said, pointing at the floor.

There were two bollini sitting all by themselves in the middle of the floor. Jonathan doesn't believe it, but I am convinced that this house gave us two bollini to make up for the mean guy having been so, well, mean.

The house is enchanted.