Moxi and her Hijo

So here's a fun story.  About three weeks ago, as many of you know, my wonderful and fluffilicious friend Moxi the Amazing Fifi Poodle arrived here in Nicaragua to visit me and have a wild and crazy vacation time. Those first few days, however, I was still finishing up some archival work, and had send to her off on her own. This made me a little nervous. Why? Well for one thing, Moxita is a real head turner with bright blonde curly hair, beautiful blue eyes, a great smile, and her figure is way more va-va-va-voom than Olive Oyl, if you know what I mean. Here in Nicaragua men are not at all shy about following, touching, talking to, and harassing women they find on the street. Also, though Moxi is a multi-lingual wunderkind, she doesn't speak a word of Spanish. Well, that's not exactly true. Perhaps it's more accurate to say that she speaks just enough Spanish to get herself in trouble. Nonetheless, she was confident and brave, so she set off with her camera and some carefully detailed handwritten notes in her pocket, and when I came home several hours later, I found her like this:



Just kidding. Really she looked more like this, only without the volcano as backdrop.



"Hey, Moxita, you're back! How was your trip to Masaya?" I asked, as we relaxed that evening with a bottle of rum (weee-hee-hee-hee!).
"Oh, it was really fun, Cheasty! I loved Masaya, and the people all wanted to talk to me a lot."
"Really? What'd they say?"
"Well this one guy in the town square was trying to sell me some nuts..."
"He he. Nuts. He he."
"Oh, Cheasty, you're so funny! I love it when you make erudite jokes that make me laugh."

OK, she didn't say that. But I did make some sort of "deez nuts" joke, I'm almost positive. Cause that's the kind of funny gal I am. Now, back to the story.

"Yeah, he kept following me around and saying that I was bonita and his nuts were exelente portamente! So finally I bought some nuts so he would leave me alone, but that didn't work, because then he started asking me if I had a boyfriend."
"Ooh, was he cute?"
"Well, he was only about 10 years old."
"Wow, that's cheeky!"
"Yeah, I know! He kept following me around and asking me "tiene un hijo?" until finally I said yes to scare him away."
"Um, Moxi, hijo means son, not boyfriend. He was asking if you have any children, not if you are in a relationship."

Moxi stares at me for a second, then bursts into peals of laughter.

"Ooooh hooo hooo hooo! Waaa-hahahahaaaa!" she guffawed. I laughed along, but then her reaction seemed a little outsized, so I probed for more info.
"So what'd the kid do when you told him you had a son?"
"Oh, he asked me how old he is," Moxita gasped, wiping tears from her eyes. (Moxita always cries when she laughs really hard. It's one of her more endearing traits).
"So how old is your son, Moxi?"I laughed, finally getting the joke.
"Th-th-th-thirty-two!" spluttered my 28-year-old friend, before collapsing into a hysterically laughing blob on the couch. "And he's very big and strong," (pause for wheezing gasps of laughter), "and has a m-m-m-mustache!!"

Ah, yes. They breed them large in Germany.