Bingo!
On Sunday when I arrived home, my mother was not there, she was providing her services at a bingo for one of the committees that she works for, in Candelaria.
With nothing better to do, I told my dad that I was going to say hello to my mom and my dad said, “Let’s go!”
Upon arriving at the community hall, I had a regression of about 20 years, when I barely knew how to recognize numbers.
My dad bought bingo cards for both of us (although this time I got two, given that supposedly my ability to play bingo has grown despite the lack of practice), looked for corn, a table, and benches for us to sit on…
And so, while hearing things like “a pair; of ducks… twenty-two!”, I was back to being 5 years old and remembered that I didn’t like to win because you had to shout and people would see you. I saw the empty seats of players who have abandoned us in these 20 years, and tried to remember how bingo worked…
Upon seeing my dad looking over my shoulder to check if I missed any numbers and my mother in the background with her apron, I realized that my card is already full… and I can shout “bingo!”