Immigrant Proverb #5 - Unanimous

Back at Kennedy airport after our long flight home from Southern California, I trade in my sandals for boots.  My boots are soft warm and snuggly so it's ok. My father-in-law meets us at the curb outside the terminal and we pile into the car. My husband gets in the driver's seat. Driving on the Van Wyck Expressway north before the Long Island Expressway, my father-in-law calls his wife to tell her to put the pasta in. That is the signal that we are ten minutes away from the house. Relaying a question from his wife, he asks the kids what kind of pasta they want. They all yell that they want the "big" pasta. He says to his wife on the phone, "It's anonymous!"