This morning a co-worker told me that her cousin had a black baby. Nothing bold, color s dim slightly, latte, or chocolateadito. No, apparently the baby is black as your ass a cricket. Very cute, though. The scandal, which has her cousin and her husband crying all day, comes from the fact that both are white. "Pure white race" said my companion. "Fixed it so pure it was," I told myself, and then she looked at me and responded suspiciously like Galicia. "How do you know? "I've told you already, or know my cousin?" I've told the truth: I had no idea but that ruled out a possible infidelity of her cousin (if not, I do not know how much whining in love and company, if there had been slippage instead of tears I have spoken at least screams, thunder, and lightning), the only possibility was in some obscure ancestor, literally. My companion looked at me as if I were House, has made a little sound like "ummm" and has been telling me about Cuban ancestors husband of his cousin, when I've used to disconnect a predictable story and think peas. Look, I like peas. In every way. At that moment I realized that in the garden we planted two variations but both pea green. Um ... I think so far I have not spoken of the garden. Well, relax, I will not do (yet) but everything will come. I had always wanted to sow peas colors and began to make experiments with them, and the truth only when we have green. Okay, I know I was not going to happen, but I was excited about the idea of \u200b\u200bcrossing yellow and green peas and await the birth of new individuals into squares and Burberry type. Be cool, go do! Dishes would be the sea of \u200b\u200bonlookers. Of course for that at least one must be an Augustinian monk and live in a cold and inhospitable, if not deadly boring, which is the biggest distraction playing moms and dads with plants. Yo, it's over I have serious problems with attention, I've noticed that at most I get is to stare at the bushes for a while as if it were to grow more, and try calculate whether we have enough beans for every meal I want to do with them. The genetic experiments with legumes, however tempting it me, for now I have it parked. Besides, I have only to look at home in my "peas" particular to see that, indeed, genetically transmitted characteristics. But all, uh, all from the color of the eyes to the way of taking the fork, the laughter, the way you walk, the quirks in the table, etc. And it is true that inherit everything, the good and bad, those things our of which we are intimately proud of those (NOTE: here I want to express my dissatisfaction with the new rules of accentuation SAR pronominal, that and the e I do not like medium hair, so I continue to use accent marks where it has always been to them like when I get to it, which is the Lord's Prayer I get old, the of my childhood, on the other hand is the only one I know) that make us raised eyebrows in a gesture recriminatory, and those in the parent if we are surprising, in the stem can not even believe it. My "peas" are legacies to put in all the areas, especially in the latter. To not bore you, just mention the ability to attract JB geeks that her children have inherited. And to prove that race better, they have a lot more radar wide. Let's say if JB attracts geeks and ten miles, they do so as one or two hundred miles. Or even more. JB
And no, but they brought home to me.
day before yesterday, for example, I came home from a seminar at IKEA (no comments or giggles, uh, I know) and I found the house full of teenagers. On the one hand, Madagascar was making a work of non-memory-what subject with Kevin, Lydia, and Uli (well, actually did work Mada, Lydia, and Kevin, who is home schooled Uli, he's that cool), on the other hand Kenya had brought some friends to do a job right linguistics compared, or something.
When I saw that the four were being gobbled up a few chocolate bars, with the invaluable help of Bruno. Kevin's face was as rotten and a bit alarmed me.
-Anda ... you are getting on blind chocolate. Why did not you get something else for a snack?
-Uli is that as a vegetarian ... not going to put a ham sandwich or something.
Uli Vegetarianism serves as a convenient excuse, I fear.
-Ya ... no ham, cheese but yes you could, it would have been better than chocolate.
-Bah! Who cares?
"If Kevin was not diabetic yes they would like, Mada, might as well, but look, if I believe that you are giving something.
Kevin's face was slightly unseated. I took a piece of chocolate in her hand and stuck it to Bruno in the mouth. Ulysses laughed.
"Nah, Gin, if it is now well. You had to have seen him before, ha.
"The chocolate is what we have fought to revive him, Madagascar, and the fault has Lydia. There
I began to tremble, that Lydia is tremendous. Lidia instead shrugged and continued as pimpante gobbled chocolate.
"Come, Lydia, ask to Gin," said Uli a mouthful of chocolate. Lydia looked
faced interest.
-Gin, do you know if the guys can sleep churra them? I mean, we sleep like the legs, which then puts you as if you ran ant inside. Uli
Madagascar and laughed. Bruno smiled broadly, showing his teeth filled with chocolate. I laughed too.
-Gensanta, Lidia ...!
course, this girl is amazing. Kevin had a face as if he were to exploit the brain. The truth is that I understand perfectly. I was still there trying to reposition the neurons, when Lydia looked at me most interested.
"Oh, look, as we are, otherwise, Gin ... emmm ... to see ... "Blondes and redheads have churra hairs blond and red hair, or black as we have them all? Uli
Madagascar and laugh again, that he jumped Uli tears and everything. Kevin dropped his head moving slightly. Lidia asombradísima looked at us all.
- What?? What? Huh? What? Is not nobody going to answer me or what? Who do not know, right? Right?
I left the room laughing followed by Bruno.
-Pst ... Mom ... What is churra?
sighed. Bruno has the quality to incorporate into their vocabulary words more rare, more incorrect, those that others use it as an entertainment use them as normal, plus they are convinced that part. So called faluendas to headlights, and says fotohigiénico and altercalar. I resigned myself to the idea that from now on would not otherwise churra penis, to another term appeared worse.
-The penis, Bruno, the penis, is that Lydia is not very fine talking, you know.
-Aaaaaaaaaah! Bruno
shut his mouth and stretched elastic waistband of his tracksuit with his hands, so he dropped a piece of chocolate into his pants, and looked thoughtful.
-Pst ... Mom ... What can I sleep?? To his face
concern restrained laughter, but Lidia deeply hated.
