Ewww. I am trying to type at the kitchen table and the dog Indio will not leave me alone. He  is an 8 year old golden retriever that has a drool problem and really bad breath. Probably because he has been known to eat diapers and used feminine products. Yesterday I went to the vet with Marco because Indio was throwing up at acting strange. The vet determined that Indio had eaten something odd that was now blocking his intestines. That didn't surprise anyone given his consumption history. Marco was really bummed because the vet said surgery could be necessary if things didn't get better soon. Good news though, later than evening as I was up in my room Marco runs up excitedly to tell me that when Indio was taking a poop on the walk Marco pulled out a dishrag out of his butt or something like that and now Indio is acting normal. That would explain why he is up in my face today instead of lying on the floor acting unhappy like he'd been for the last few days. I like dogs, just not the smelly ones that do gross things like this one...

This house has provided me with plenty of entertaining moments and conversations due to Marco and his mothers boisterous personalities. However, I am convinced that the mom can not process any opinion other than her own. It's pretty interesting to be around actually (to a certain point) and I can see how that ideology leads to independence and strength as well as tremendous oversights. When the topic comes up that I'm not religious, I always like to observe the reaction. The mom (Kity) immediately told me it was because I hadn't experienced anything "fuerte" strong or powerful in my life yet. One thing that I resent about being young is that adults can use that line on me and I've got no response to it. I mean, by the time I am wise enough to have my opinion respected by my elders, there won't be any elders alive to do it. Well, the one trick I can pull out of my bag is that my parents have pretty similar beliefs as I do AND they are old, a winning combination :) When I told Kity that my parents weren't religious she assured me that they hadn't experienced anything "fuerte" either. I was quickly able to disprove her theory in that respect and she didn't really have a response, and if I had been given a few more seconds to structure my closing argument in Spanish, I think she would have had to admit her err, although by that time I think Marco had started a new conversation by that point anyway. And that's how it goes sometimes, as I've discovered. I used to think someone letting you finish your sentence was a right, and now I realize its a privilege.