Sofia's cousin Hector and his family and their friends were visiting from Mexico. We took them to Lombardi's for pizza. That's the big girl table.
The boys. The boy on the left, I forgot his name, would speak to me in Spanish. And when I would try to answer, he would look at me as to say: Who is this dummy and what is he trying to say. His Dad saw one of these exchanges and told his son that I don't speak much Spanish. From then on, he pretty much ignored me. Machuquita!
Hectorin (on the right) was the star of the night, as usual.
See.
After dinner, we took them to Little Italy for dessert.
Shopping.
The next day was the World Cup Final...
That beer was hot.
Later Cristy and her entourage showed up to cheer on Italy. Ugh!
See those guys past Annie, we don't know 'em. They sure know how to ruin a picture though. Chumps.
When Italy won, booooooo, I had the bright idea to head down to Little Italy. Apparently that was everyone else's idea too. I'm not what you'd call an original thinker.
This should have been on the NYT the next day.
Italy played horribly, what are they so happy about. Boooooooooooooo!
Boooooooooooooo!
Boooooooooooooo!
This guy was going crazy. I think people were yelling at him, "Jump, Jump, Jump!"
Welcome to New York, now die.
1 comment:
thats right son, quit hatin'. Va Italia. the world cup has been the only good thing to happen during this godforsaken summer.
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