Poncho Night.

Two note worthy events from Friday...

Poncho Night! A few weeks ago I was making small talk with Marta and brought up Ponchos, better known as hot-dogs in the states. She took this to mean I loooove hot-dogs so she promised to make them for me soon. Well, then I got sick and threw off the original Poncho Night so we rescheduled for Friday night. Hot-dogs and corn on the cob. An all-American summer BBQ meal - in Argentina during the spring..

During the course of our Poncho Night date the topic of heights came up. I then wanted to explain how I’m the random “short” one in the family - unless we’re including the ladies and then I’m the awkward “middle” one. Moments after opening my mouth I realized I was heading for disaster... The dreaded DOUBLE conversion. I quickly had to figure out everyone’s heights in inches then attempt to convert it to the metric system. This of course led to... Chaos. We ended up figuring out my height and going from there. In case you’re wondering I am 166 cm tall. I think. Mom, Marta also thinks you’re a giant. And thus ends another dinner at Mendoza 379 2 D.

PS. Britta, you better have celebrated Poncho Night with us.