And dawn the same day, hitting his mother, with the new look on your bangs, who had to rub your eyes to see if she had dreamed of having them open, awakened and not be in the midst of a nightmare stone. Add to your understanding with Rich Dad Poor Dad. In those moments swear and perjuro I shouted: God give me patience but give me already. Because patience surely is the answer to try to calm me when I imagine in my house a bullfight. Because surely, until you arrive, I will give you realize is not such. But that is my son, chased by the dog and the cat, coupled with the sister the hosts, which are not prepared in any convent, as I said the song of San Lorenzo, but gestate in house, exactly every few minutes. They push him to the man of my life to the decision culminates and, really, existential: do go behind the skirts of MOM that’s going to save from those who pursue me, because one threw him from the queue, another grabbed the ears and took the bone from the mouth, while he ate and sister got him his personal diary – to scratch everything with my crayons so my santa mother me defend them? or I won’t? Because when you become aware of all that they did, joined grab your Notepad ready to deliver to the editorial, is killing me in slow motion.
And surely, the procession of events given fencing a: oh and now who can help me, the best style Chapulin colorado. And there try, sooner than ever, doubt philosophical which we are going to stop all, sooner or later: be or not to be, that is the question. Welcome Descartes. To this life in which an adult tries to live with an own patota: adolescent and above intends to single your soul, to live to a dog and a cat that quintessential never took well in his life.