Poppa decided to watch the world cup soccer final today. ‘Twas Spain versus Italy. Sometimes it’s hard to tell how invested Dad is in any given game. And sometimes it’s hard to know where our allegiances lie when the teams that are playing are particularly foreign. Usually we default to any team from Latin America, just on the premise that, being Mexican, we all come from a similar culture. In this case I heard him exclaim from the next room when the first goal of the game was scored. Here’s how it went down:
Dad: Goal! Spain scored!
Me: (From my room, attempting solidarity) Yay! (… and then realizing I didn’t know who was playing nor who we were rooting for, I walked over to the TV room…) Wait, who are we rooting for?
Dad: (Somewhat shadily) Um… I guess Spain.
Me: Because … it’s the motherland?
Me: Ok. Hey, Mom! We’re winning!
Mom: That’s nice, dear.