We went for a family dinner at an authentic Mexican restaurant this evening to celebrate Cinco de Mayo. No, not Iguana Mia or Casa Laredo, both of which we like, but not what we consider authentic. And, we know, Cinco de Mayo is essentially an American holiday. But, hey, I like to celebrate when Mexico resisted French occupation and won!
The restaurant was all dressed up in red, white and green balloons and streamers with "Fiesta" posters all over the walls. They had Mexican music playing and bull riding on the TV. Cheesetastic. The food was great - spicy, fresh and delicioso. My kind of food.
As we sat down to eat, Ray and Chay wanted to know why we were eating out on a school night. We explained to them that it was Cinco de Mayo, and we were really craving some good Mexican meals. Ray burst out with, "Cinco means five, and de May0 means May. So Cinco de Mayo must mean its May 5!"
Impressed, we praised Ray for translating Spanish to English. Then Chay had to get in on the action.
"I can speak Spanish! Bagalo balafo balago de mayo!" He yelled. "See, that was Spanish." Then the whole restaurant laughed. (He can't seem to say anything without the whole restaurant hearing him, regardless of where we are.) Of course, he couldn't tell us what "Bagalo balafo balago de mayo" meant.
Chay did count to ten in Spanish though, so I'll give him props. Not to be outdone, Ray proceeded to say "Hello" in three other languages - Spanish, French, and Chinese. The competition between these two never ceases to amaze me, but if it keeps each one challenged and learning, I am not going to complain.
Maybe watching Spanish soap operas on Telemundo really have taught them something?
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