03
Dec
Written by: Elliott
No, I am not one of those control-freak-over-involved parents. I’m not a spectator, but I also don’t call the shots. For example. I did not shell out hundreds of dollars to kiddie-proof my house for Junito. I did place the knives safely out of reach…but the corner edges on tables? They are everywhere. And they are going nowhere. That said, there are some things I can control. There are some influences which cannot be accepted. Up until this point, I’d always pictured my younger brother as the future-crazy-fun-loving-uncle. He’d be the guy to get the bachelor party started, bring some pizazz and unexpected merriment to the table, etc. etc. But then…then he started dating a gal from Catalonia.
My brother, like all God fearing Mexicans, believes in three things – the lottery, Hugo Sanchez, and Hugol Sanchez. And the girl, apart from being a Barcelona fan, is pretty cool and very sweet. My brother has tied the Madrid line, ribbing her gently on the days of classicos and still dons blanquillo attire on Sundays. This may not be so bad, I tell myself, Frank Lampard’s wife was from Catalonia. Although that did not work out very well.
Their relationship does not concern me. Just the implications for Junito. I see a potential slithering serpent in my garden of Madrid. Every time I hear my brother utter “T’ estime”, the Catalan phrase for “I love you,” as opposed to the Castillian “Te Amo,” I get nervous. Men have done crazy things for love before, and he is head over heels. I think it’s only a matter of time…
Thus, I have limited all contact between Junito and his future-Barcelona-loving uncle. Time alone? Flatly prohibited. They are allowed to greet one another at family functions, but for Junito’s birthday, I can’t lie – I held my breath as he unwrapped the gift from his uncle. Was this the Barcelona scarf to tear our family apart?
No. It was a pretty sweet remote car from the movie “Cars,” which, in Spanish, is called “Cars.” Junito enjoys said automobile, displaying a healthy masculine urge to emit engine sounds while crashing the car into walls. Granted, I thoroughly inspected the car before allowing such tomfoolery. All appeared kosher, except for a seemingly latched trunk which in reality was only painted on. I think. I hope. I pray.
On the one hand, I fear I am being a bit harsh. But on the other hand, the stakes are too high…
“…pray unto the LORD, that he take away the Catalan serpents…”
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December 3rd, 2009 at 7:19 pm
Don’t worry: emitting sounds while crashing a car into walls sounds much more Real Madrid than Barcelona.
December 3rd, 2009 at 7:24 pm
I feel your pain. I have this recurring dream where me and my hypothetical future bride are thinking of names for our soon-to-be-born daughter, and the love of my life says “Look, we’re calling her Chelsea at that’s final!”
Also, I’m sure “t’estime” sounds beautiful to Catalan ears, but to me it seems a bit … I don’t know, clinical? “After a full and thorough investigation of the matter, I have deemed you worthy of my affection, darling, and pending a course of due diligence, I would … Wait, don’t go! Don’t you want your certificate of authentication?”
December 4th, 2009 at 2:23 am
Brian – I’m glad someone picked up on that subtle metaphor for the Huntelaar signing.
Fredo- you may want to consider a not very romantic prenup with this hypothetical bride. And I am glad to twist your linguistic sensibilities against Catalan…soon you too will love Madrid. In Castilllian Spanish, the word which springs to mind is “excelente”
December 17th, 2009 at 2:24 pm
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