El Sombrerito

Today is Spanish Friday so this post is in Spanish. If you participated in Spanish Friday on your own blog, leave your link in comments. English translation below!

“¿Qué onda, vos?” pregunté a mi hijo mayor una tarde cuándo venia a casa de la escuela.
“Mira mamá, te tengo una sorpresa,” dijo mi hijo con algo escondido detrás de su espalda.
“¿Qué es?” pregunté.

Mi hijo reveló un sombrerito negro, decorado con lentejuelas. En purpurina color verde, blanca y roja, estaba escrita la palabra “BICENTENARIO.”

“Ah, de México, es. Qué bonito,” dije, “¿Dónde lo econtraste?”
“Lo gané por tener la calificación más alta de mi clase de español,” dijo con orgullo.
“Wow, qué bien. Muy bien,” dije yo, “pero a dónde vamos a ponerlo? Tu papá no le va a gustar.”

Después de unos minutos, dicidimos ponerlo en una estantería llena de libros y chucherías.

¿Lo encuentras tú? Can you find it?

“A ver cuántos días le toma por encontrarlo,” dije sonriendome.

Bueno, más tarde entró Carlos a la casa después de un día trabajando. Me dio un beso y empezó a platicar por unos minutos cuándo él paró de hablar muy abruptamente.

“Ey,” dijo, frunciendo el ceño, “¿Qué es esto?”

En menos de quince minutos lo ha encontrado.


“What’s up?” I asked my oldest son one afternoon when he arrived home from school.
“Look, Mom, I have a surprise for you,” said my son with something hidden behind his back.
“What is it?” I asked.

My son revealed a little black sombrero decorated with sequins. In green, white and red glitter the word “Bicentennial” was written.

“Ah, it’s from Mexico. How nice,” I said, “Where did you get it?”
“I won it for having the highest score in my Spanish class,” he said proudly.
“Wow, that’s great. Very good,” I said, “but where are we going to put it? Your Dad isn’t going to like it.”

After a few minutes, we decided to put it on a bookshelf full of books and knick-knacks.

“Let’s see how many days it takes him to find it,” I said smiling.

Well, Carlos later came home after a day of working. He kissed me and we started to chat for a few minutes when he very abruptly stopped talking.

“Hey,” he said, furrowing his brow, “What is this?”

In less than fifteen minutes he had found it.

11 thoughts on “El Sombrerito

    • LOL, there was a “disturbance in the force” apparently.

      Good question – he has allowed the little sombrero to stay because of how it came to be in our possession. He’s very proud of our son :)

  1. Amiga, this is really funny. It was like he had an antennae for it. : ) I’m a little late commenting, pero aqui te dejo mi link (mi perrito lo escribió). I hope you had a wonderful Easter con tu familia. Un abrazo!

  2. love it! is it crazy though that instead of looking for the sombrerito i noticed one of my fave books on your shelf?? (Bitter Grounds)

    • LOL, I would have done the same thing, (checked out the books!) … I love Bitter Grounds, too. It’s rare to find such great fiction (though based on true history), about El Salvador.

    • He’s Salvadoran so he’s sensitive to my love of Mexican culture. He doesn’t hate Mexicans and has become good friends with his Mexican co-workers, but he does experience that “sibling rivalry” type feeling that some Central Americans feel always living in Mexico’s shadow.

  3. I know exactly what you mean about “sibling rivalry”,…. Es igual en mi casa con mi papa. A lot of people would take it the wrong way and misunderstand the feelings between Salvadorean and Mexicans….. pero, eso es otro tema… jajaja.

Note: You are not required to sign in to leave a comment. Please feel free to leave the email and/or website fields blank for an easier commenting experience.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s