You probably thought this post was going to be about my favorite city in Northern California and salt rimmed glasses full of lime juice and tequila.
I go outside to investigate and ask my mother to please repeat what she’s trying to tell Eric.
She rolls her eyes at his gringo-ness.
"Las margaritas se comieron a San Francisco."
"The daisies have eaten St. Francis."
I have a small statue in my garden of St. Francis of Assisi.
The daisies are so overgrown that they have obscured it. My mom is trying to point this out to him.
But now, I am laughing too hard to explain this to my perplexed husband, so I just respond with:
"She’d really like for us to take her to San Francisco and buy her dinner and a margarita."
I’ll let them work it out. =D