It´s your birthday, really?

Monday was my birthday. I didn't want to make a big deal out of my birthday with my host family, so I didn't tell them.

They have been treating me so well that I didn't want any more attention.

It just so happened that Monday at lunch my host mom asked me what my horoscope sign was.

Ian: Leo

Host mom: Leo... That's August. Right?

Ian: No. July.

Host mom: July? When?

Ian: Today.

Host mom: Today? Really?

Ian: Yes.

Host family: (Pandemonium ensued)

After they regained composure, they resolved to make me a birthday party - even though I told them that I really didn't want to do anything.

The more that I insisted on not doing anything the more they insisted on doing something.

They said that, at the very least, I needed to go to town to call me mom. I agreed. I just didn't want them to go out of their way to do anything for me. They had to go to town anyway to sell mustard, arugula, and lettuce.

When we were in town, they bought a birthday cake. My host sister decorated the candle. They made fish, rice, and beans. I made potatoes with rosemary and garlic (I made this dish once in Arenillas, and my friend Rosa asks me to make it every time I go back). The neighbors came over. I was in bed by 9:15 p.m. - just in time to hear my favorite soap opera's theme song.

It was a great birthday dinner.