Saturday, January 9, 2010
Cat Swolleneye Andgreen Pus Comingout
This year it is snowing like few times. In Oviedo snow snowfall and if not curdle.
I like to see the snow at home, warm and happy with so much beauty. I do not like "going to snow." And a few days I've come to realize why I do not like: It is the result of the thorough education that sought my mother in childhood.
After several winters without seeing mop, it was snowing at last. One of my brothers and me, the ones at home, we began to ask my mother to take us to Naranco, the mountain that presides over Oviedo. I asked, why not, as the kids know the things that demand really want, such as undercover mandates insistent pleas that it should obey the first.
At first it was, but ended up cheering the girl who remained, it seemed, and we walked to Naranco, fortunately very close to our house. We were with woolen mittens, boots normal and I think that without caps, very well equipped to fully enjoy the moment. We arrived at the meadow where we liked and we got to run, throw us a ball and roll around like but after a short time, the pain in hands, feet and ears was unbearable. We left quickly and headed home resist the urge to mourn in pain. When it began to warm the extremities, the lesson was complete. And the laughter of my mother conveyed her joy at how it was all gone too. I have
to thank her for that first experience that "vaccinated" against the snow. Now, over time and seen the fruits do not know if it was consciously thinking within a carefully organized plan, to avoid an uncomfortable future love of his children for half as inhospitable and dangerous.
All things considered, is similar to what made Paco's father caught him smoking when only ten years. Went with him to buy five packages of snuff, went home quickly, is locked in the bathroom and forced him to smoke non-stop until he vomited several times. When Paco and felt that what would happen next was his death by poisoning, with two and a half packages of snuff under his belt, his father let him go to bed. Paco, of course, never returned to smoking.
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