Boys and comfortable table
These days there 'was a celebration of do not know which saint I do not know why, but anyway, there were booths, cotton candy and fireworks. Since the party was right in front of her in-laws' house, We sat back to enjoy the show.
An aunt (here are all or uncles or nephews, I'll get used to 'never) was used to ladle of cold slop the rest of us sitting at the tables while the eighteen year old son, sitting on the steps with friends, claimed his share.
"Oh no, you guys come and take you to!"
And I put my plate in hand with many smiles.
I felt decrepit.
I only twenty-seven, sir !!!!!!
Then I watched "the boys", piled on the stone steps, to climb over each other and to balance a glass plate fork cigarette phone as trained monkeys. I put more 'convenient on my chair, I put a fork near the plate, I clean his mouth with a napkin and I stretched out my legs.
I'm getting old, evvabbe '. I lighthouse 'for a reason.
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