That’s about the extent of my Spanish speaking/writing, but it seems appropriate to title the members of Diego’s family in the “old country” with their language as this is how they’re known. His tíos, títas, abuelos, primas... such amazing, loving people who have opened their brazos to mi nino as well as their corazons grande. Ok. Maybe I know a couple words. But dios mio, I gotta say I spend 95% of these trips to España with a completely clueless look on my face while intoning “no se” weakly. Diego, on the other mano, appears to be assimilating Español with the same surprising deftness as Inglés, making his toddler speech a surprising mixture of Spanglish. I love it. Oy... I spent all this time talking about the language that I neglected to point out that this was Diego’s first time on a tractor. For a kid that loves machines more than just about anything else in this world, it was a truly joyous moment. But if you look here, the happiest person in the photo is Diego’s abuelo who was so enormously proud of his little grandson’s affection for his machine as well as his garden.
