El Pan

So the other day, little Jose Andres tells his mom that he's hungry. But little Jose Andres tends to be rather picky. Down here they say he's a gringo, cause he won't eat red meat, won't drink fresco (homemade juices), and generally is very picky (today he refused chocolate milk...so I think he's not even a gringo, he's just a funny little kid). So his mom offered for him to eat something, and of course he didn't want it and said no. In the meantime, there was a loaf of sweet bread on the table, which his mom had bought for our breakfast the next morning to go with our coffee. She told him that it was for her and for me. Well, Carina (his mom) and I then went next door to say hi to her aunt, and as they do down here, just spend time talking. There's never really an urgency to do anything else (unless I have homework), so we sat and chatted for a bit, and then when I said I needed to do homework, we returned next door. Well, wouldn't you know it, little Jose Andres, in all his hunger, had gone ahead and helped himself to some bread. He ate, not just one small piece of bread, oh no, he ate almost the entire french loaf. But you have to hand it to Jose Andres...he did think of me and his mom...and left us the ends.