Well, my first anniversary is here, thank God I made it to 51 of age (so far) and knowing that in my blog there's only a few stories that by now a lot of you have read over and over, let me tell you that I really appreciated the time that you had put on reading them, and now that 2012 is leaving, and some of us are happy, and some of you unhappy, and that the world didn't end in that issued that even Hollywood made money out of it, and that the "fiscal cliff" is a threat to all of US, I'm here to promised to all of you that with the beginning of the year 2013 I'll start posting new stories for you to read, and throughout the whole year !!
I'm looking forward to start like new this new year unlike the 2012 that I started it in the hospital and I spent most of the first two months under medical care, without counting that I had a car accident on Christmas eve!! so, I ended the year bad, and I started it bad as well, knock on wood that this year so far everything is ending kind of normal, kind of nice, and I don't see the need of me going to a hospital, (specially that I don't get Ruben's visit) if you read my stories, you'll know what I'm talking about. Well I'll leave this short story here with my. . . . .
BEST WISHES FOR ALL OF YOU,
YOUR FAMILIES, AND FRIENDS
AND THAT THIS 2013 BE THE BEST YEAR FOR EVERYONE!!
THAT ALL YOUR GOALS GET ACCOMPLISHED, AND
ALL YOUR PROJECTS GET TO AN EXTRAORDINARY END!!
HAPPY, VERY HAPPY 2013 TO ALL!!!
over n' out.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Thursday, September 20, 2012
NOTHING LIKE BEING HEALTHY
When you're sick and have medical insurance, you hope for all your medical expenses have 100% coverage, and when you're sick with no insurance, you hope for a 100% certainty that you have a job that pays you enough to cover all your medical expenses.
Back in 1995 I was having serious health problems (not that I don't have any anymore) and thank God I had medical insurance coverage, but, if it wasn't for a medical situation that I had back then, today I probably be so sorry for it, just because I didn't think of the seriousness of it .
It was thanksgiving week and to be more accurate was a Monday a beautiful sunny day, I was sent by my =dental specialist= to the hospital to have some analysis done, and by the time I got there, there was some people already waiting for me, (I just didn't know that) two men and a female (all nurses) by the main entrance, with a wheelchair, and they told me as soon as I tried to get into the hospital, "you need to sit on the wheelchair" to what I said, "no thanks I'm fine, I can walk in on my own", but they insisted "please, sit on the wheelchair, otherwise you would not be able to get into the hospital"
Under that circumstances I finally sat on the chair, and, for some strange reason, from that point on everything went in different directions, they took me upstairs to a room, where another three nurses were working on preparing a bed for me, and one of them asked me to take my clothes off and put a gown instead, but I said "there must be a mistake, I think that you got the wrong person here" so, another nurse got my chart and read it, "are you Martin . . . .so. . . . .and . . . .so?" and I said "yes, but. . . . ." and she interrupted my complaint saying "take your clothes off and put this on" (referring to a gown), and there I was, on a bed, in a room, in a hospital, thinking "but, I'm here just for some analysis".
I was in that room for I don't know how long, when out of nowhere a priest came in to my room!!, and I thought "oh my God!!, I'm dying and I didn't even know it!!" the priest started talking to me for maybe an hour or so, and I felt this peace, this calm, so nice, like never before in my life! and I thought "well, maybe this is the way you feel before you die, so I guess I'm ready!", the priest left my room, (needless to say that I was totally in peace with myself) and after some time my doctor finally came into my room, and I said "doctor, good thing you are here, because there has been a mistake", and he said, "no Mr. Flores, we had detected a infection that needed to be treated as soon as you got here to the hospital, and we are going to have you here for observation" and like I said before, it was the Monday of the thanksgiving week, and me, with my terrible sense of humor, as a joke I told him, "well, if you give me turkey I'll stay" to what he said "good! I'll let the kitchen people know, because you'll be here till Friday" and there I was, in a room, in a hospital, the whole thanksgiving week thinking "I was just kidding".
One of the events that I remember while I was there, was the visit of Ruben, to whom I met while I was working for a furniture store, Ruben was a good man, good coworker, good father, good friend, but, the worst visitor in a hospital!!, he got there to my room, sat on a chair next to my bed, and started telling me all his misfortune, all his issues, and everything that was bogging him, he just dumped all that on me, like if we were at the bar or something like that, and I was thinking "if I'm dying, I hope that putting up with all this crap counts towards going to heaven" after that, he (Ruben) left my room clear minded, and there I was in a hospital, in a room in a bed thinking "one more of this visitors and I'm dying for sure".
Fortunately everything came out good, (I didn't have any other visitor) I was treated for that infection and I went back to normal activity, back to work, back to make money, back to the usual, and I was very fortunate to be within the people with a 100% medical coverage, because there was no way that my job would it paid me enough to cover those medical expenses. Well, another story ends here, and I'm thinking in the next one as I'm typing this last words, so keep reading, keep expecting more, and more, so stay up, don't give up, eat your vegetables and fruits and I'll be back, over n' out.
Back in 1995 I was having serious health problems (not that I don't have any anymore) and thank God I had medical insurance coverage, but, if it wasn't for a medical situation that I had back then, today I probably be so sorry for it, just because I didn't think of the seriousness of it .
It was thanksgiving week and to be more accurate was a Monday a beautiful sunny day, I was sent by my =dental specialist= to the hospital to have some analysis done, and by the time I got there, there was some people already waiting for me, (I just didn't know that) two men and a female (all nurses) by the main entrance, with a wheelchair, and they told me as soon as I tried to get into the hospital, "you need to sit on the wheelchair" to what I said, "no thanks I'm fine, I can walk in on my own", but they insisted "please, sit on the wheelchair, otherwise you would not be able to get into the hospital"
Under that circumstances I finally sat on the chair, and, for some strange reason, from that point on everything went in different directions, they took me upstairs to a room, where another three nurses were working on preparing a bed for me, and one of them asked me to take my clothes off and put a gown instead, but I said "there must be a mistake, I think that you got the wrong person here" so, another nurse got my chart and read it, "are you Martin . . . .so. . . . .and . . . .so?" and I said "yes, but. . . . ." and she interrupted my complaint saying "take your clothes off and put this on" (referring to a gown), and there I was, on a bed, in a room, in a hospital, thinking "but, I'm here just for some analysis".
I was in that room for I don't know how long, when out of nowhere a priest came in to my room!!, and I thought "oh my God!!, I'm dying and I didn't even know it!!" the priest started talking to me for maybe an hour or so, and I felt this peace, this calm, so nice, like never before in my life! and I thought "well, maybe this is the way you feel before you die, so I guess I'm ready!", the priest left my room, (needless to say that I was totally in peace with myself) and after some time my doctor finally came into my room, and I said "doctor, good thing you are here, because there has been a mistake", and he said, "no Mr. Flores, we had detected a infection that needed to be treated as soon as you got here to the hospital, and we are going to have you here for observation" and like I said before, it was the Monday of the thanksgiving week, and me, with my terrible sense of humor, as a joke I told him, "well, if you give me turkey I'll stay" to what he said "good! I'll let the kitchen people know, because you'll be here till Friday" and there I was, in a room, in a hospital, the whole thanksgiving week thinking "I was just kidding".
One of the events that I remember while I was there, was the visit of Ruben, to whom I met while I was working for a furniture store, Ruben was a good man, good coworker, good father, good friend, but, the worst visitor in a hospital!!, he got there to my room, sat on a chair next to my bed, and started telling me all his misfortune, all his issues, and everything that was bogging him, he just dumped all that on me, like if we were at the bar or something like that, and I was thinking "if I'm dying, I hope that putting up with all this crap counts towards going to heaven" after that, he (Ruben) left my room clear minded, and there I was in a hospital, in a room in a bed thinking "one more of this visitors and I'm dying for sure".
Fortunately everything came out good, (I didn't have any other visitor) I was treated for that infection and I went back to normal activity, back to work, back to make money, back to the usual, and I was very fortunate to be within the people with a 100% medical coverage, because there was no way that my job would it paid me enough to cover those medical expenses. Well, another story ends here, and I'm thinking in the next one as I'm typing this last words, so keep reading, keep expecting more, and more, so stay up, don't give up, eat your vegetables and fruits and I'll be back, over n' out.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
TIME TO LEAVE (move on)
Sometimes brotherhood, sisterhood, or familyhood, which ever way you want to call it, it does not work, so you have to move on, and you don't have to be an adult do that.during my childhood I went through a lot of situations, (like most of us) where I was asked, sometimes by people, some times by life, to do, or to act, or react, in a sometimes rough way, and that was my case, living in an environment where one parent had to be all I had and sometimes he was not able to cover all our needs, he had to rely on my older sisters, and then later on in my older brother. I think that, I was able to deal better with my situations in the outside world, than with the ones at home.
I love my brother very much, we didn't grow up together (for a few years) and after a while we finally lived together, we lived through a lot of things, good and bad, and went to the same junior high school.
Well, I don't know all the cases, but when you are the youngest in the family you always have to deal first with your older family members and then with your parents, and that was my case back when I was in third grade of junior high school (9th grade in other countries) I had too many confrontations with my older brother, we were always fighting, because my Dad was always relying on my older brother for everything and I had to do whatever he said, and he (my older brother) wanted me to do most of the chores at home, and I was always thinking that, that was not fair for me.
We went like that for some time until one day (at the time that I just graduated from junior high school) I couldn't put up with him anymore and we got into a fight!!, and I'm glad to say (in a way) that I beat the crap out of him, and then I got out of the house, I left the house just like that (I was 15 years old) went to the bus stop, checked how much money I had, like 5 pesos (no dollar translation please) and after thinking about it for some time, I decided to go to the one of my classmates from junior high house, with whom I lived basically together for 3 years, while in school, we started at 8:00am, we had a break from 1:00pm to 3:00pm, and then we were off school by 6:30pm Monday to Friday, and Saturday from 8:00am to 11:30am, so, we spend more time together in the school, than us at home.
But, nothing last forever, after a few weeks (maybe three) I don't know how, but my Dad track me down, and got to me at my friend's house, for this he was accompanied by my godfather (can't remember his name), the vice principal from the Junior high School that I just graduated from (which by the way was my Godfather too) and they talked to my friend's mom, and then his mom called me and told me that my Dad wanted me back home, that everything is going to be fine, that he we'll talk with me and my brother to fix any situations, any problems, and then my friend's step father came up to me, (he hasn't talk to me at all, while being there!) I got kind of scare, and looking the tall guy bending his knees to stay up to my eye level, and telling me, "you got to go back home, your Dad said that everything is going to be fine, but, . . . if nothing changes, you're always welcome here in my house" I almost crap my pants!, my heart was pounding!!, the big rough guy just told me that he was fine with me in his house!!! that was unbelievable!!
I went back home, and things were not the same, my brother wasn't even talking to me, never the less my Dad, he just took me home, and went to work, for about a week he didn't even acknowledged that I was there, so, I saw that I could do it once, and, I did it again!! I run away, and this time it was for good.
As you can see, is not the matter of being prepared to move on, I mean, at 15 of age, what kind of preparation a boy can have? right?, well, sometimes situations happen when even stronger countries prepare some other small countries to learn how to defended themselves, and I was in that category, my Dad make me a self efficient child from the beginning! and I used that to survive in the world out there.
One more story down, there's more coming, and at this point I would like to read some of your comments, meanwhile eat your vegetables, stay safe, if you eat to much, don't do it please, until next story, over n' out.
BEING HOME ALONE
In my country leaving a child home alone, is not like the movie (Home alone), it's a natural, normal way of living, and when they leave an adult to take care of us, we wonder, "why?, she can't take care of herself?".
When I was in fifth grade; about 9 or 10 years of age, may Dad got a job as a furniture sales person in a city that it was about three and a half hours away from home, and he had to be in at a specific time in the morning, so He had to design a plan, create a strategy where my brother and I were taken care of. and what he did was travel over there, taking my older brother (by then he already had finished elementary school) with him, and I was staying home alone for the whole week!! that was so cool!! He (my Dad) used to give me money to cover the whole week, meaning my food, my bus rides to school and some extras.
Well, everything went well for a few weeks, or months I don't really remember, but it got to the point where I was spending more money than I was supposed to, so I was kind of starving for some days, because some times by Wednesday , or Thursday I was already out of money, but, then I started using my abilities, self efficient, and rough!,
Some time ago, before any of this took place, my Dad had bought a shoe shine kit for us, because he didn't like the idea of his kids having to wear dirty shoes, and considering that He didn't have much time to check on us, (because he was always working) we had to create a habit of using that kit, and we did.
I remember going with my sister to the market, and watching all those kids that used to get around her asking if she need it help with the basket (the groceries bag), and they all wanted to do it for a small tip that was new to me, I never had to ask any stranger for money.
After that intermission, on the last two paragraphs, getting back to my story, to make extra money that would keep me safe for the rest of the week I started giving a better use to my shoe shine kit, and to that experience that I had with my sister in the market. First I tried the market thing, I went to the market, and just like a saw those kids to do, I started going around asking the ladies if they wanted me to help them with the basket (read back up to find the meaning of basket), needless to say that with my Charming personality and my educated way of asking them, I had total success! I made good money the first days, so, I had solved my "financial" situation, but like I said somewhere before, "nothing last for ever", One of those days, when I just started "working" in the market, there was about 10 kids surrounding me, and one of them a kid not older than 10 years old (the leader maybe) told me "you had been taking business away from us, this is our territory, if you don't leave right now we are going to kick your ass!!" ( I don't think that he said "ass" but, it looks better in the writing part) and me, being enemy of the violence (that, and they were too many, more than I could take at that moment) just left the market alone.
Then taking the market option out, I started using the shoe shining kit that my Dad got for us, and I started going around in the same area of the market (just in the out side areas) doing my shoe shinning thing, and again, money came to me naturally, of course I have to work for it, but I kind of got derailed when I started making money, meaning, I kind of put my education a little bit aside, I was getting too comfortable, and then some day walking on the street I came across to this guy that used to have a shoe shine station, with 3 chairs on it, and he offered me a job, he told me what he could offered me and after that, I guess that was my second job, after the one selling jello time.
As you can see, being home alone is not just about been scared of some burglars trying to break in your house, it's about making money too!!, I leave all of you for now, I'll be back with more later, for now eat healthy, stay out of trouble, and if you get in trouble, well, . . . . . . . . who cares?. over n' out.
When I was in fifth grade; about 9 or 10 years of age, may Dad got a job as a furniture sales person in a city that it was about three and a half hours away from home, and he had to be in at a specific time in the morning, so He had to design a plan, create a strategy where my brother and I were taken care of. and what he did was travel over there, taking my older brother (by then he already had finished elementary school) with him, and I was staying home alone for the whole week!! that was so cool!! He (my Dad) used to give me money to cover the whole week, meaning my food, my bus rides to school and some extras.
Well, everything went well for a few weeks, or months I don't really remember, but it got to the point where I was spending more money than I was supposed to, so I was kind of starving for some days, because some times by Wednesday , or Thursday I was already out of money, but, then I started using my abilities, self efficient, and rough!,
Some time ago, before any of this took place, my Dad had bought a shoe shine kit for us, because he didn't like the idea of his kids having to wear dirty shoes, and considering that He didn't have much time to check on us, (because he was always working) we had to create a habit of using that kit, and we did.
I remember going with my sister to the market, and watching all those kids that used to get around her asking if she need it help with the basket (the groceries bag), and they all wanted to do it for a small tip that was new to me, I never had to ask any stranger for money.
After that intermission, on the last two paragraphs, getting back to my story, to make extra money that would keep me safe for the rest of the week I started giving a better use to my shoe shine kit, and to that experience that I had with my sister in the market. First I tried the market thing, I went to the market, and just like a saw those kids to do, I started going around asking the ladies if they wanted me to help them with the basket (read back up to find the meaning of basket), needless to say that with my Charming personality and my educated way of asking them, I had total success! I made good money the first days, so, I had solved my "financial" situation, but like I said somewhere before, "nothing last for ever", One of those days, when I just started "working" in the market, there was about 10 kids surrounding me, and one of them a kid not older than 10 years old (the leader maybe) told me "you had been taking business away from us, this is our territory, if you don't leave right now we are going to kick your ass!!" ( I don't think that he said "ass" but, it looks better in the writing part) and me, being enemy of the violence (that, and they were too many, more than I could take at that moment) just left the market alone.
Then taking the market option out, I started using the shoe shining kit that my Dad got for us, and I started going around in the same area of the market (just in the out side areas) doing my shoe shinning thing, and again, money came to me naturally, of course I have to work for it, but I kind of got derailed when I started making money, meaning, I kind of put my education a little bit aside, I was getting too comfortable, and then some day walking on the street I came across to this guy that used to have a shoe shine station, with 3 chairs on it, and he offered me a job, he told me what he could offered me and after that, I guess that was my second job, after the one selling jello time.
As you can see, being home alone is not just about been scared of some burglars trying to break in your house, it's about making money too!!, I leave all of you for now, I'll be back with more later, for now eat healthy, stay out of trouble, and if you get in trouble, well, . . . . . . . . who cares?. over n' out.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
MARSHMALLOWS
"what you love might kill you" when you are a boy that saying doesn't mean anything, that is unless you like marshmallows.
In one occasion, while my Dad was playing cards with the hotel administrator and some other people, I was playing with my little friends outside of the hotel including the daughter of the hotel administrator. My Dad called me and he asked me to buy him some cigarettes (yes, back over there parents used to send their kids for anything: beer, cigarettes, matches, you name it) and that day my Dad gave me a $5 pesos bill (don't change that to dollars, please) which back then that was a lot of money, specially for a kid like me.
So I went and got his cigarettes and when I was giving him the change I asked him "hey Dad, can I keep the change?" At that time I didn't realize that my Dad's response was based on the focus that he had on his card game and it was almost automatic, "yes, yes, that's fine!" that day stayed in my mind for two reasons. One, because I ate marshmallows like there was not tomorrow, bought marshmallows to all my little friends that were playing with me, including the daughter of the hotel administrator, and two, because, later after my Dad has finished playing cards (and after his mind and eyes were off the playing table) he came up to me and asked me for his $ 5 pesos bill change!!
Unbelievable!! I mean, I could be presumably short minded, or with lack of memory retention, but not even an hour had passed and my Dad already forgot that he allowed me to keep that change!! (unless he meant, keep it for me for later, in which case I would have to rewrite this story) I got the (beating) spanking of my life!! and I owed it to my beloved marshmallows.
And there it is, "what you love, might kill you", My Dad tried to make the situation softer by telling me that, that was a lot of money, that he didn't mean to hurt me, that. .. . . He went on, and on, but in my little fragile mind, I could not assimilate why I got punished, just because I asked for something (to keep the change) and that my happiness for eating so many marshmallows had to have so cruel end.
Today I still eat a lot of marshmallows and I guess the difference is that I'm not getting spanked for it, anyway, I hope that all of you liked this story, for those that did not, don't worry, your story is coming soon, for the moment stayed safe, if you drink don't drive, and if you drive, stay out of my way!!, until the next story, you'll read me later, over n' out.
When I was between 5 or 6 years old I used to go with my Dad (my superman) everywhere, by then He was working for a news paper, (no, sorry, I don't remember the name of the paper) and we traveled a lot and we used to stay in a very nice places: hotels, bungalows, and even resorts. This story took place precisely in one of the most well known resorts in the Morelos state, Oaxtepec.
I loved being with my Dad, aside from the fact that wherever he took me I could have anything I wanted, and some of that was called "marshmallows", those little, soft, sweet, and very good to eat (at least back then) were my "love" I liked them so much that the saying that I mentioned at the beginning of this story had at that moment some meaning to me.
So I went and got his cigarettes and when I was giving him the change I asked him "hey Dad, can I keep the change?" At that time I didn't realize that my Dad's response was based on the focus that he had on his card game and it was almost automatic, "yes, yes, that's fine!" that day stayed in my mind for two reasons. One, because I ate marshmallows like there was not tomorrow, bought marshmallows to all my little friends that were playing with me, including the daughter of the hotel administrator, and two, because, later after my Dad has finished playing cards (and after his mind and eyes were off the playing table) he came up to me and asked me for his $ 5 pesos bill change!!
Unbelievable!! I mean, I could be presumably short minded, or with lack of memory retention, but not even an hour had passed and my Dad already forgot that he allowed me to keep that change!! (unless he meant, keep it for me for later, in which case I would have to rewrite this story) I got the (beating) spanking of my life!! and I owed it to my beloved marshmallows.
And there it is, "what you love, might kill you", My Dad tried to make the situation softer by telling me that, that was a lot of money, that he didn't mean to hurt me, that. .. . . He went on, and on, but in my little fragile mind, I could not assimilate why I got punished, just because I asked for something (to keep the change) and that my happiness for eating so many marshmallows had to have so cruel end.
Today I still eat a lot of marshmallows and I guess the difference is that I'm not getting spanked for it, anyway, I hope that all of you liked this story, for those that did not, don't worry, your story is coming soon, for the moment stayed safe, if you drink don't drive, and if you drive, stay out of my way!!, until the next story, you'll read me later, over n' out.
A SELF EFFICIENT CHILD
I believed that our childhood ends whenever you have to buy your own Jell-o.
Being a child is tough anywhere in the world, but specially in any latino countries, and mine was not an exception even today, whenever I tell this story, some people (specially woman) feel like they have to, or do cry.
For this I have to go a little bit back in time, (just a little) to when I was 7 years old, at that age I was in second grade in the "Lidice" Elementary school and I was being raised by a single parent, my Father (Superman to me) whom always (whenever I was asking him for some money) told me "you have to learn how to work to earn your own money" or "the golondrinas will not going to feed you" and at the time when I was asking him to go with me somewhere, because it was to late, or to dark, or to far, he used to tell me "You have to learn how to do things on your own, not always I'm going to be with you" and I remember coming back to him with "of course you will always going to be here with me" unfortunately for me (as for everybody) time would teach me a lesson in that remark.
I remember been very specific on whatever I wanted, and whatever it was I was getting it, even if I had to work for it, and this has to do with me liking jell-o a lot, to the point that when my dad stopped giving me money to buy it, I went to the store, shop, or whatever it was, (I didn't care, I just wanted to make some money to buy my own jell-o) and I told the owner that I wanted to sell jell-o for him, and I have no idea why he'd agreed and there I was, with a big tray with at least 15 jel-lo pieces, (including some of my favorites) and that would take me a couple of hours to sell them, and later on there I was me a happy kid, eating my favorite jell-o that I bought with my very own earned money.
Earning money to buy my own jello was not always easy, for example one day in an effort to sell all of my merchandise, as innocently as it may have seemed to me, I tripped and fell and logically my jello pieces(about 8) were all over the ground, but knowing that I could not lose that many pieces, I picked them up, washed the dirt off of them put them back in the tray and sold them all!.
Needless to say that some (if not all) people complained about it, saying that they felt like if dirt were on them, and I just said, "really? that's weird!, I don't know why, nobody had said nothing to me before" after that, I never bought jell-o from any of the kids on the street, Jell-o has fallen off from my new priority list, I still love jell-o, specially the cherry flavor, I guess is not because I'm not a child any longer, but because is not as exciting as it used to be.
I'll come back to all of you with more (no, no more jell-o stories), meanwhile stay safe, eat your vegetables, and you'll read me later alligator. over n' out.
Being a child is tough anywhere in the world, but specially in any latino countries, and mine was not an exception even today, whenever I tell this story, some people (specially woman) feel like they have to, or do cry.
For this I have to go a little bit back in time, (just a little) to when I was 7 years old, at that age I was in second grade in the "Lidice" Elementary school and I was being raised by a single parent, my Father (Superman to me) whom always (whenever I was asking him for some money) told me "you have to learn how to work to earn your own money" or "the golondrinas will not going to feed you" and at the time when I was asking him to go with me somewhere, because it was to late, or to dark, or to far, he used to tell me "You have to learn how to do things on your own, not always I'm going to be with you" and I remember coming back to him with "of course you will always going to be here with me" unfortunately for me (as for everybody) time would teach me a lesson in that remark.
I remember been very specific on whatever I wanted, and whatever it was I was getting it, even if I had to work for it, and this has to do with me liking jell-o a lot, to the point that when my dad stopped giving me money to buy it, I went to the store, shop, or whatever it was, (I didn't care, I just wanted to make some money to buy my own jell-o) and I told the owner that I wanted to sell jell-o for him, and I have no idea why he'd agreed and there I was, with a big tray with at least 15 jel-lo pieces, (including some of my favorites) and that would take me a couple of hours to sell them, and later on there I was me a happy kid, eating my favorite jell-o that I bought with my very own earned money.
Earning money to buy my own jello was not always easy, for example one day in an effort to sell all of my merchandise, as innocently as it may have seemed to me, I tripped and fell and logically my jello pieces(about 8) were all over the ground, but knowing that I could not lose that many pieces, I picked them up, washed the dirt off of them put them back in the tray and sold them all!.
Needless to say that some (if not all) people complained about it, saying that they felt like if dirt were on them, and I just said, "really? that's weird!, I don't know why, nobody had said nothing to me before" after that, I never bought jell-o from any of the kids on the street, Jell-o has fallen off from my new priority list, I still love jell-o, specially the cherry flavor, I guess is not because I'm not a child any longer, but because is not as exciting as it used to be.
I'll come back to all of you with more (no, no more jell-o stories), meanwhile stay safe, eat your vegetables, and you'll read me later alligator. over n' out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)