Growing up Cuban

A friend forwarded this to me in the form of an email, and I liked it so much I thought I’d share it with you all. We may not all have experienced these, but I can guarantee we can relate to all of them.

I grew up in Miami in a household where coffee, milk and sugar were part of a balanced breakfast.
Ironically, I could have cafe con leche for breakfast but I was too young for a buchito de cafe.
My ADD and ADHD was treated with en cuanto te coja te voy a dar una paliza (instead of Ritalin). All it took was just ONE look.
We loved white rice and fried eggs.
Spanish was my primary language…Spanish was my only language (at least for the first few years)!
I had to go to my school open house to translate for my parents.
My brother, sister and I shared a room until I was fifteen.
Music or TV was never played on Good Friday.
We ate bacala’o on Good Friday because all other fish was too expensive.
We ate lechon at Thanksgiving.
We ate lechon at Nochebuena.
We ate lechon at birthday parties.
We ate lechon at every social function.
Tilo and Manzanilla were the remedies to end all illnesses.
We watched la novela while we were having dinner.
I was not allowed to sleepover at anybody’s house but they could all come over to sleep at our house.
We didn’t need El Cable because we only watched El Canal 23.
The carpool was el ride, el carrito was the lunchman y la lonchera was the lunch box.
La carne was from la carniceria and the groceries were from la bodega.
Meat and potatoes were literally carne con papas.
Oxtail stew had the colorful name of rabo encendido (fiery tail).
People were either blanco, negro, indio o chino.
We drank Bustelo because El Pico was for Puerto Ricans.
The oven was used exclusively to store Las cazuelas and the oil.
Los perros was the dog track, las Maquinitas were slot machines and el juego was anything related to gambling.
I grew up in a household ran by Cubans.
I survived in that household ran by Cubans and I’m proud of it.
It’s great to be CUBAN!

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