Mark and I haven't seen each other all week, except at my 'hour-long' lunchtime, so dinner out was a really nice change of pace. As we're driving home, we are behind a little car who stops at a stop sign. I know, novel concept. But he didn't move fast enough for me, and with a very silly, goofy air in the car as we celebrate the onset of the Sabbath, I say, "Muevete!" And proceed to explain that it means, "Move it, little man." And Mark says, "No, that would be, 'Mueveteito.'" Every now and again Mark uses this reasoning. This, "I am clever. I clarify what you obviously did not get quite right." And this humour makes me laugh and further cry. Oh, I laughed so hard. Mueveteito? Yeah, that doesn't work. And he, "What?" the whole way home.
Side note: this type of gutteral giggling is actually supposed to help aid labor. :)
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ay de mi. meditations and divulgences of a red head with hopes of living up to the family name, raising her family well, and cherishing this beautiful life.
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