This gentleman is small in stature, fat and bald. He must be around 50, more or less. He wears a black jacket, gray pants with suspenders, and brown ankle boots. He never goes out without a hat.
His name is Don Justo. Likewise, Justo, his father, grandfather and great-grandfather were called. The same is called his firstborn son. The same will be called his first grandson and his first great-grandson.
Don Justo is an office worker. He works from 9 to 1 and from 3 to 7 in a public office, that of the Stamp Law. When he arrives, always on time, at his desk he puts on a pair of black cloth sleeves that cover the white ones of his shirt so they don’t get dirty with dust or stained with ink from the pen.
He also wears a kind of green, transparent plastic visor, which prevents the light from the spotlights – the daylight does not enter there – from hitting him directly in the eyes.
Don Justo is married and has five children. I’m wrong: his wife just gave birth to the sixth. And a problem has arisen. Due to her age, the lady no longer had milk to raise the newborn.
At that time – the first decades of the last century – artificial foods for babies were not yet known here. It is therefore necessary to get a wet nurse to breastfeed the creature. At half milk, as they say, because she is also breastfeeding her child. The woman knows that she is greatly needed.
So he shows up with great demands at Don Justo’s house. He asks to live right there for as long as he is breastfeeding, with a special room for her and her baby, and a radio, a very new and very expensive invention. He wants an extraordinary feed.
At 7 in the morning breakfast, chocolate with sugar bread: muffins, shells, nuns, slats, chamucos, ears, morelianas, chilindrinas, threads, mustaches, empanadas, shortbread, pastries and marquesote. At 8 o’clock lunch, barbecue and often, or if not eggs with bacon or ham, a luxury at that time reserved for the very rich. At 10 a snack.
At 11 o’clock a glass of vermouth, as it is already known that one at 11, and 11 at one. At 12 o’clock some snack to make you hungry for lunchtime. At one o’clock the meal, of beef broth, thin soup and dry soup, a salad, the main course, beans with cheese, seasonal fruit dessert and black coffee. At 3 in the afternoon a tea with cookies. At 5 the afternoon snack, now coffee with milk and flour tortillas with cream or jam. At 7 a little something while it was time for dinner.
Then, at 8, dinner, which was another succulent feast. And still, at 9 at night, a little bowl of warm milk with cajeta so as not to go to bed on an empty stomach. And he humbly told such a wet nurse that all this was not for her. Oh no, how barbaric.
It was to have the most abundant, richest and most substantial milk in order to be able to better feed the son of his employers, poor little creature, who deserved the best. Don Justo’s wife lost one color and another came. She hadn’t expected so many and such heavy demands. Without words, just by looking at her, she transmitted her anguish to her husband, who was present there.
Where were they going to get to give all that to the woman? And Don Justo said nothing. Silent, his face expressionless, he patiently let the wet nurse pile one on the other onerous solicitations of him. When she finally finished enumerating the endless number of her demands, then yes, Don Justo spoke.
“Look, ma’am,” he said to the woman. “I am married and the father of six children. A modest office worker, I earn 70 pesos a month. I am going to give it all to you, and you are giving us all to breastfeed.” FINISH.
LOOKOUT
By Armando SOURCES AGUIRRE.
Stories of the creation of the world
The Lord looked down.
He saw meetings, merriment, laughter.
He looked hugs, joy, love.
He observed pleasant coexistence with tasty food, wines, liquors and beer.
He heard anecdotes narrated, memories, experiences stored with affection in memory.
The Lord looked down on all this.
And it was said:
Will they remember this day that I am also their father?
See you tomorrow!…
MANGANITE
by AFA
“. Father’s Day today.”.
The art of being a good father
and that they remember you well,
consists only of
be a father to every mother.
#politics #worse