Fortunate Son

“How’s your grandson doing? Here, have another cupcake. If you don’t eat them they’ll just go bad.”

“Oh sweetheart, I can’t eat another bite.”

“No, have one. They’ll just go bad if you don’t eat them. I can’t eat sweets anymore.”

“I really shouldn’t. My doctor would never forgive me… Ok, well if you twist my arm. But just the one more.“

“How’s your grandson?”

“Oh, my grandson. He did it! He got into State! Pre-med!”



“Well that’s terrific!”

“Isn’t it though! We’re all so proud! Ooof. These cupcakes are really sublime.”

“Aren’t they though? I couldn’t let them go to waste. I said to myself, ‘Gladys is coming over. Gladys will love them.’”

“I do. I love them.”

“Did you see Dolors’ son on television the other day?”



“What a handsome young man. He’s so handsome. I keep trying to tell my Sophie but she won’t listen.”

“He is drop-dead gorgeous. And such a good dresser.”

“That lemon colored sweater. With the scarf! He looked so precious out there.”

“And so strong too. That jaw line.”

“God didn’t make two jaw lines like that. That’s a real jaw line.”

“And he’s such a gentleman. So caring. He brought these cupcakes by the other day. Just as a surprise. So caring to remember me.”

“That Barcelona team he runs isn’t too shabby either.”

“Cut above the rest aren’t they. I don’t really care for sports generally. Never really understood them. But I can’t help but watch Barcelona play. It’s beautiful.”

“As beautiful as Pep.”

“Oh Gladys, behave.”

“I can’t help it. Best team in Europe they’re saying. Two years running! Maybe three depending on whom you ask. That’s what my Gerard says.”

“I heard it too. That’s what they were saying on TV the other day. Maybe the best team ever. And with little Pep the architect behind it all. Behind all that beauty.”

“He has those deep eyes. The kind you know can just see anything even on a cloudy day.”

“They must be able to. To have such a good eye for fashion and for sport.”

“Well it’s a fashionable sport. Dolors told me he was thinking about going into fashion before he became a manager.”

“She must be so proud.”

“Of course she is. He’s great to her. So kind.”

“Not like that Mourinho boy.”

“Oh, nothing like him.”

“His poor mother.”

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One Response to Fortunate Son

  1. Milt says:

    Other than my morning pooh, this is the best thing that’s happened to me this morning. It’s like someone’s just roused my five-years-dead grandmother and asked her to take cakes over to my fifteen-years-dead Auntie Rose. Lovely stuff.


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