I’ve lived in this neighborhood for a little over four years now.
It’s a heavily Hispanic neighborhood and granted, I took Spanish from 8th grade until senior year (with a bit of wandertacular time/lost course hours spent in the theatre corridors), but in the face of people who Actually Speak The Language Fulltime…well, I get what I refer to as Shy Spanish.
Meaning I can easily (and quietly) say hola, wish some a buenos noches, and give directions to el discotheque…but other than that? I smile like a moron and lead more than a few of my neighbors to think that I’m either thoroughly kept or thoroughly stupid.
BUT NOT THE OTHER DAY!
No, the other day I went to our neighborhood Cermak Produce (where both the labels and the clientele are of the Spanish persuasion) and struck up a conversation with a guy.
Who spoke only Spanish.
That’s right, P.J.- better watch out. Six months pregnant or not, I still got it.
Okay, he was roughly 85 years old.
And wanted to ask where Susannah got her hair color.
So we chatted for a bit. And you know what? I held my own. I was extremely proud of myself for my decently intelligent conversation and only a few moments where we both realized that is not a real word in the Spanish or any other language.
My favorite part? When he asked gestured towards my blonde child and asked what inspired me to marry a gringo. Because- and I’m not sure what nationality and/or mental capacity level I called my own within that culture- but he totally thought I was vaguely Spanish.
Yes, he was geriatric. But I was flattered.
So I went with it, shrugged in a what’re you gonna do manner, and murmured something slightly apologetic.
In Spanish.
***
And now it’s time to play everyone’s favorite game called In Favor Of What Was Keely Neglecting Her Children This Week:
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| Crazy week, right Mom? |
Last Friday, I made dinner. And Country Crock helped. But not as much as me.
On Monday, I told a story about how I got peed on and my children weren’t even in the same state as me.
Tuesday brought a rather personal review of all things Cottonelle. Plus a really cute picture of Zuzu.
My first piece for Chicago Parent went live yesterday, with some pretty helpful tips on how often to check in on your children.
Wednesday also showed me busting out my best Bob Vila and attempting to do something vaguely structural with my girls’ closet.
And now it’s Thursday. (Right?)
Happy almost weekend. Celebrate however you feel is most appropriately festive.
Meetcha at el discotheque.
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