There was nothing better that could clear my head then a nice walk with my crazy old  dog. Her lack of energy and insanity was infectious, so every once in a while I needed to go outside to prove to myself that there is life beyond my room and my dog.

It was a typical Jersey summer afternoon filled with sun, humidity, pollen and an air so thick you can cut it with a knife. I grabbed my Ipod and the Dog and off I went to take a walk around the neighborhood. As I was walking, I notice a lady approaching us with one too many children. I could feel Prissy already getting stressed out.  She doesn’t like other dogs, she doesn’t like other humans, but she especially doesn’t’ like other human’s children.

“Oh, what a cute poppy, can I tuch him?” And of course, Prissy snapped. Like I said, not a very big fan of children. 

“No Prissy, bad girl,” I said. “Are you alright?”

Then her mom came behind her, pushing a baby carriage in front of her and carrying another carriage in her. She was pregnant.

“Yessica, noooooo. Don’t play with strange dog!” the mother said very firmly.

“Oh, it’s ok, it’s just that my dog is old and senile and little crazy…she’s not use to kids,” I said with a smile to make the situation a little lighter.

“No, no, no I understand,” the lady said. “My kids don’t understan’ they can’t go around playin’ with any animal they see.”

I then noticed the lady kicking a wheel on the carriage, then proceeded to kneel down and tried to push the wheel in.

“I’m sorry, but the wheel of my carriage is coming off and I waz tryin’ to fis it.”

“Oh, let me see, maybe I could help.”

My dad did a lot of things with Ian. Bike rides, played chess, fencing, but when it came to nut and bolts, manual labor, I was…grandpa’s little helper! Sorry dad! I loved fixing and building stuff with grandpa. I learned a lot from him, more than my dad or my brother knew.

“Here you go, with this metal piece in here, your wheel shouldn’t come off anymore.”

“Gracias young lady, muy apreciada, very appreciative.”

“Oh, are you Spanish? I take Spanish in school . . . kind of hard, si?” I said with the only word I could remember from 1 year of Spanish.

“Well, no, no, not as hard as us learning English,” she said as she rocked the baby in the carriage. “Jou see, jou were born here, so English is easy for jou. But us coming from a foreign country and learning English, is very hard. Spanish is much easier to learn.”

“Well, you say that because you know Spanish already,” I said laughing.

“It’s that English is not as phonetic as Spanish. Most of the time in Spanish, you read what you see. In English, there are so many rules and letters that are silent, it gets very confusion.”

“You mean confusing.”

“Sorry, my English not so good. Confusing.”

Hmmm, that reminded me of Johnny’s favorite word- Herb. Why do we pronounce it erb. I mean, it has an H in it, why don’t we pronounce the H? 

“Well, that’s very interesting, thank you very much. Mrs…?

“Fernandes, Yolanda.”

“Very nice to meet you Mrs. Fernandes.”

“Oh por favor, call me Yolanda.  And this is Yasniel my boy, he is 9, Yessica my girl, she is 7, my baby Yohanni, she is 4. And of course I am pregnant.”

Yeah, couldn’t keep that one a secret.

“Wow, Mrs. Fernandes you must have your hands full.”

“O si, you have no idea,” she said half in English half in Spanish. “I don’t think I’ve slept after 6am for about 10 years.” Wow.

We started walking, and I had Prissy on a short leash.

“So how long have you been in New Jersey?”

“We lived in Nevada for while, but after my husband became an American Citizen, we decided to move closer to New York to find better jobs.”

“Did you?”

“Well, my husband is working in a factory doing electronic parts, and I’m working in a middle school cleaning at nights.”

“Wow, you really do have your hands full.”

“Well, yes, but it’s better than the way we lived in Mexico.”

“Oh, how was that?”

“We lived day to day. Not knowing what the next day would bring. We lived in a 3 room house, and nothing was sure in our lives.”

“Wow, really?”

“Oh, yes. You Americanos don’t know how lucky you are. In Mexico you can work from sun up to sun down and at the end of the day, you don’t even have enough to feed your family. Here in the United States, if you work hard, you can move ahead.”

“Wow.”

“We’re both working hard trying to bring my  mama and his tio and tia in Mexico over to live with us, before the baby get’s here, it’s been a lot of hard work, but it’ll be worth it.”

“Well, that’s a remarkable story,” I sincerely told Mrs. Fernandes. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you my number. If you ever need any help call me.”

“Gracias mi hija, very kind.”

“De nardas.”

“Haha, it’s ‘de nada.’”

“Oh, well, I barely passed Spanish this year. Maybe next year I’ll do better.”

“I’m sure you will,” Mrs. Fernandes said with a smile. “Aye, these kids are getting a little impatient.”

            They were jumping on and off an outdoor cable box. I was waiting for one of them to get electrocuted and then we would really see how high they could jump. 

“Oh, that’s ok I understand . . . how do you say good bye in Spanish?” I asked.

“Adios,” Mrs. Fernandes responded.

“Okay, ah-dius!” Or something like that.

So I kept on walking with my dog, thinking about the conversation I just had with Mrs. Fernandes. I don’t get to talk to many people from other countries very often. It’s kind of nice to know that other people around the world consider us Americans to be lucky to live in a country that allows you to be free to live as you like, work as hard as you want, and accomplish whatever you desire. After my walk, I went home to tell my mom, Ian and Koon my ‘encounter of the Hispanic kind’. 

“Oh yes, yes,” mom said. “I’ve seen her before…yes, the lady with all the kids. She sure does have her hands full. She seems very nice.”

“And get this,” I added. “The mom’s name is Yolanda, the boy is names Yasniel or something like that…the girl is named Yessica and the baby is Yohanni! Does the alphabet in Spanish begin with the letter ‘Y’ or something?”

“Oh,” mom continued, “and I was talking to a neighbor the other day, and believe it or not…but…her husband’s name is Yasmiel.

“You kidding mom. I can’t believe that, really?”

“Yep.”                                  

“I think you just name the unborn baby?” said Johnny.

“What you mean?” I asked.

“You answered your mom ‘Yep’, I think the unborn kid’s name will be. . . Yep! Get it, yep with a Y.”

“Hah, good one Johnny, thinking on your feet, I like that,” Ian said to Johnny reaching up with two fingers up, giving him a high two.

“Okay, okay you two, that’s enough,” mom said pointing at Ian and Johnny. “Stop it this instance or I’ll start calling you Ortho and Cecile.”

“Why don’t you just call them dumb and dumber. . . they already have earned those names,” I said. Ian and Johnny left the room acting like a bunch of idiots.

“Daaaahhhh.”

“Waaaaahhhh.”

“Yayayayayayaya.”

“Mom,” I said, “do they ever grow up?”

“Physically dear, not so much mentally.” Fantastic.

“Soooooo, why should I even consider marrying one of them?” I asked.

“Because dear, women must keep on procreating to establish more women in the world, or else our planet would turn into . . . one . . . big . . . bad . . . videogame,” she said jokingly, but not really. Point taken.