Sunday was almost entirely spent in Kendall with Rafael's relatives and then before they knew it, Monday morning had arrived.
That day, they were going to be off doing their own thing. A lot of the adults had to go to work, and most of the kids planned to go off and hang out with their friends.
Everyone else appeared to still be asleep, but Rafael got up quietly, had a quick shower, headed downstairs, and left to grab some groceries. He'd grabbed a couple of items Saturday evening, but that was about it. By that point, Sofía was very clearly awake, so he left a short note for Olivia, just in case she woke up before he was back from the store, and took the rather excitable little girl shopping with him.
Rafael wasn't gone all that long and he was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking some café con leche, his daughter in the highchair right beside him eating yogurt and sliced berries, when Noah groggily strolled in. "Buenas." (Mornin'.)
"Buenos días," he replied, giving the sleepy boy a warm smile as he spoke. "¿Dormiste bien?" (Good morning. Did you sleep well?)
Noah gave him a small nod. "Sí." The boy's gaze then bounced between Sofía's food and Rafael. "¿Qué hay para desayunar?" (Yeah. What's for breakfast?)
"Voy a hacer panqueques," he stated. Pancakes were easy to make and they were one of Noah's favourite things to have for breakfast. Well, that and Rafael's tortilla de platanitos which were a very very close second. (I'm going to make pancakes.)
The boy immediately perked up at that. "Genial." (Great.)
"¿Quieres ayudarme a hacerlos?" (Would you like to help me make them?)
The boy nodded his head quite enthusiastically at Rafael's suggestion. "Sí, por favor." (Yes, please.)
He took a small sip of his coffee and sat it back down on the table. He then got up and gestured for his son to follow him.
"¡Quiero romper los huevos!" (I want to break the eggs!)
Rafael chuckled softly. He loved how the eight-year-old had a knack for enjoying the little things. "Está bien para mí." (That's fine by me.)
It didn't take them long to make the pancake batter, and they'd just started cooking the second pancake when Olivia finally joined them.
"Hmmm," Olivia said, "It smells good in here. What are you two up to in here?"
"I'm helping make pancakes for breakfast," Noah explained matter-of-factly. "I got to break the eggs and mix the batter too!"
"That's great," Olivia replied with a sideways grin. "I can't wait to try one. Those pancakes look delicious, you two." She glanced at Sofía and chuckled. "I think she got more fruit on the floor than in her mouth."
"And I already wiped her down twice," Rafael informed his wife, more amused than irritated by the fact. The little lady had a knack for covering herself in everything.
Olivia chuckled softly. "I can believe it."
Little more than five minutes later, they were sitting around the table eating breakfast, chatting about the plans for the day.
Once they'd had breakfast, Noah ran off to get dressed and Rafael did the dishes while Olivia cleaned their messy sixteen-month-old up.
They hung out around the house for a bit, letting Noah watch a show on TV as he obviously didn't really have any toys, and then it was time for them to get ready and go out and actually do something. It seemed like such a waste for them to be inside all day when it was 77 degrees Fahrenheit outside, especially with them having just come from temperatures in the thirties.
Rafael had invited his mother to join them, but she wanted to go for coffee with a friend of hers she hadn't seen in a while, which was completely understandable.
"I've got to go grab Sofía's sunscreen from upstairs real quick," Olivia told him. "I forgot to throw it back in her bag yesterday. Can you please go make sure Noah actually has his shoes on and is ready to go?"
He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Sure, Liv."
As Olivia headed upstairs to grab what she needed, he headed to the living room where he could hear Noah moving around. He raised an eyebrow slightly as he looked at his son who was very much still barefoot, sitting there and playing with the Magnetibook he'd brought from home. "Oye, chico. ¿No te pidió tu mamá que te pusieras los zapatos?" (Hey, Kiddo. Didn't your mom ask you to put your shoes on?)
"En un minuto," Noah muttered. (In a minute.)
He walked right up to Noah and then waited for a second for his son to look up from his toy. "Ve y ponte los tenis, por favor." He then gestured to the small blue Magnetibook that the boy still had in his hands. "Puedes jugar con eso en el carro." (Go and put on your runners, please. You can play with that in the car.)
Noah nodded. "De acuerdo, papi." (Okay, Papi.)
Close to ten minutes later, the four of them were finally seated in the car they'd rented and making the rather short trip to Wynwood.
"Rafa," Olivia said, not taking her eyes off the road, "I meant to ask yesterday, but completely forgot... what does la chapa de la máquina mean? I was talking with Juana, Beatriz, and Tomás and got completely lost." Tomás Méndez was one of his aunt's neighbours and the older man had stopped by with his wife for a short visit the day prior while they were there.
Rafael grinned. That was definitely some good old-fashioned Cuban dialect. Rafael's generation barely even used la máquina anymore, having switched to the much more common term el carro after a while, and the younger ones definitely didn't use the term, although some might still understand it if they heard it because of talking with their older relatives, like their grandparents and such. "You have any guesses, Mijo?"
Noah nodded eagerly. "Uh-huh. La máquina's a car. Abuela uses that."
"Bingo," Rafael praised, feeling a bit proud of the young boy. "La chapa de la máquina is basically Cuban dialect for la placa del carro or more simply put... a licence plate."
Olivia groaned. "How did I miss that?"
"Don't feel bad," he said, although he was a bit curious as to just how that particular topic had come up but figured that one of Tomás' children, or even more likely the man's grandchildren, had gotten into a bit of a fender-bender or something of the like. "It's just like in English... different age groups use different words sometimes. And us Cubans do have a fondness for our dichos and slang."
She gave a little snort. "Believe me, I've noticed."
Finally arriving, they actually managed to find decent a decent parking spot. So, they nabbed that, grabbed Sofía's stroller in case she got tired of walking.
"Can we get guarapo while we're here?" Noah inquired.
"Liv?" he questioned, glancing at his wife. He was going to suggest it later on himself, so hardly saw it as an issue, though it was a little early in his opinion.
Olivia responded with an amused look. "Sure, Honey. We'll grab some after lunch."
Their son's eyes immediately lit up, and Rafael shook his head fondly before they then started to make their way towards the Wynwood Walls to look around the Art District for a while, soaking up some sun.
He did have to laugh though when Noah started singing a rather well known Christmas song while they were walking.
'Con mi burrito sabanero voy camino de Belén
Con mi burrito sabanero voy camino de Belén
Si me ven
Si me ven
Voy camino de Belén.'
The boy really was something else, and his energy really was contagious.
