Let's see...
I want to kill the 5 year old. Jose is getting better and better, but Alvaro just makes me want him to disappear. He doesn't listen to anybody, and just likes to argue, and not even really argue, he just says no to absolutely everything. He doesn't respond to being yelled at, punnished, reasoned with, talked to, slapped upside the head...nada. Just the look of the dirty little brat makes me want to kick his ass.
And don't give me that shit about "oh, he's only 5." You try dealing with him for three months and tell me how you feel about him.
Zaragoza was fine, certainly an experience. It was good to see another part of Spain, but in the end we spent all our time in the suburban gated shit, and the kids ran wild. It's a good thing I know more of Spain than this suburban crap, because it would not be a worthwhile country if suburbs were all there was.
But anyway, after three torturous hours in the car with the demons trying to get back to Pozuelo, it's amazing one of them hasn't been strangled.
Not to mention, now the baby is getting on everyone's nerves because she cries everytime she's not with Cinthya, Miryam or Jose. Methinks she is not a traveller, this baby. How the hell we're ever going to get through Javea is beyond me. I prefer not think about it lest I implode.
Friday is Summercase. Thank God.
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