Day 25

Annnnnnd today Liz walked and walked and walked until she got to Retiro Park where she walked some more. It was a good day to walk. The streets were filled with singing Spaniards wearing red and white stripes from Bilbao, and cars honking some code that set everyone fist-pumping. Apparently club Atletica is in the Copa del Rey or something. You know, Spain soccer stuff, it was pretty cool though, it created a fun atmosphere.

Once I got to Retiro, I found Palacio Velazquez and Palacio de Cristal which both sport the art of Nacho Criado, another artist off his rocker who somehow got chosen to occupy two palaces with his experimental works (some of which don’t look like they were much work :p). These were nice, small, non-overwhelming visits. They’re both very spacious, light, and airy, which I enjoyed. Lots of broken glass. I had to resist the urge to jump on some of the glass sculptures and piles of broken glass that are supposed to be art. By this time I had to get back, so I walked some more, smiled at the cute kids playing in giant bubbles, pretended to not understand the Spanish from some kids asking me for money to take the little boats out on the little lake bob-a-ma-ngit, and laughed maliciously in my head while fantasizing about pelting the plethora of shameless couples with a paint ball gun. Good times. :)

Elena took the girls to their horseback riding lessons while Hugo was asleep, telling me to wake him up after so long. He of course screamed, cried, called me all kinds of names, and attempted to beat me. I just grabbed whatever limb was coming at me while I told Hugo all about what a little punk he is, and taunted him for hitting like a girl. Of course he didn’t understand any of this since it was in English and I used a sweet tone of voice. It felt good to tell him anyway. While he pouted and cried and screamed in a corner, I grabbed a book, sat down on the floor and started reading out loud to myself. Within five minutes he was cuddling with me, completely engrossed in the story. I’m sure he’ll hate me again tomorrow and dole out my daily beating. Bring it on.

Another Friday night, I did want to go to the YSA dance, but ended up working until 11, so I watched Bilbao and Barcelona play in the final game for the Copa del Rey. The family had the TV running during the first part of the game while we ate dinner. Hugo would run back and forth recounting what was happening. I think it’s crazy the little guy can follow the game so well. Oh Spain. :) It will feel so good and be so therapeutic to dance again.