am with my son waiting for us to receive the president of what will be, if sicopedagoga not find any gene in the child behavioral bullshit aste, his new school. a new community they belong. I will record my efforts: I am not only accompany this process that supremely bored me, but I was not worn with jeans and put on blouse and sandals, as his mother. if not I'm so pendeja no one would doubt that I am. and that which I put anti frizz in curls and he does not, which we mark an important difference. question that we are there and I try to get in through a side to the thermal head, to see if I can activate certain capacity for reflection, a glimpse of what the future may be a sign of maturity hand. not easy. have to go through that tangle of curls. to me that the message leaves me dig into this swarm of holiness and loses, it gets stuck in a loop about to be drag and can not pass, it reaches its destination. the kid looks at you and think you going to say something coherent, consistent set gesture even, but you talk about something else. interesting, very copada, but you will you have to say, what to do with the city's ass, son. and nothing. we are there, killing time. and I, as is my custom, I criticize everything. this looks like a prison. I'm not back here. do not believe in formal education but the school you're going to end up like that my name is marta, turnip.
mom, everything seems a jail, everything seems wrong. your concept of the futility of education I explained it a hundred times and I think 3d bullshit.
ah, well, spoke Hanglin rh positive, forgive me. it shows that you're a faithful practitioner of formal education so you start to read the complete works of Saramago when you have to read geography. Total
not know where I said that he proposed Pirulo come to my house and Pirulito Pirula. ie: two girls, one boy and holiness. or fart, santi told a pepper tree, is my mom on vacation. what love, not want to be disturbed in my work break. what goes. Pirulo dialogue and santi continues: why, boludo, dale, insists Pirules. no, my mom is crazy, I do not want Pirulito Pirula and know it.
to? How? will you say to your friends that I am crazy? if you're crazy, ma. crazy? I always knew it, ma, primary, when asked, one said my mom is a doctor, my mom is a housewife, my mother is a psychologist and I said, my mom is crazy. Look at you, so I'm crazy ... I do not think you go saying that around the world, santi. Like, pepper tree, said your old is copada, dale. (Pirulo became my favorite). the only friend I defended was Pirulo? if others do not know you, ma. how not? And when I had to smoke all night playing poker? good, but not talked to you. ah ...
(five minutes)
not understand, santi. crazy enough? crazy what's up? crazy redefinime brings me bad memories ... Well, ma, you're not crazy, let's say you're a modern mom, very mooooodeeeeernaaaaaaaa. ready, quedamo 'well, Santiago, from the moment I start to be a normal mom, muuuuuuuuuuy nooooormal. no, ma, I do not want you to be normal, stay well, I like it, is great, and to change the school have enough change ...
then came the rector, so I settled the blouse, he shook hands with the gentleman and said, pleased to meet you, as do all mothers.
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