Easter Time

Yesterday again, he sighted “sorry, guys, this weekend I have to go to Spain”. Again, his friends didn’t really understand what was wrong with spending Easter in a lovely Mediterranean country full of bizarre traditions. I reminded him a lot of people save money the whole year to go a couple of weeks to Spain, you know? Again, he complained in the usual terms “Yeah, but we will just visit your family. It’s a lot of money for a few days of drinking coffee and eating ham. I don’t even like ham that much”. Don’t get me started with the ham. Seriously. How is that even possible? That’s like not liking the Beatles. Insane.

Anyway, there are some minor compromises a person needs to make to keep his partner happy. Going on holidays to Spain is way down the list of unpleasant stuff ever done because of being in a relationship. It’s a bit away from having to drink wine before it gets bad and accompanying your partner to a chocolate spa.

I don’t think it has anything to do with the fact that he will be missing the Easter celebration in his home town, which consists of course on getting wasted and beating young girls with a stick. That is likely to get a bit boring once you become an adult, and in any case, we will probably see some beating in Spain during the Easter celebrations too. Ha-ha. Ok. Not so funny.

So, in any case we are going to Spain and I’m sure that food and wine will be, as usual, enough to entertain him during the expected English-unfriendly conversations. And he will not dare to say to his buddies that is was horrible how my family forced sea food and Ribera wine down his throat. They would slap him.