One sunny afternoon, the birds were singing, you on the marble bench cooking, and I in the background, planning the next nonsense. I do not remember what I said or did, maybe I was disobedient or defiant. Definitely it wasn’t an exemplary behavior.
You dropped whatever you had in your hands, turned around and faced me, looking furious. I ran for my life, giggling with nervousness, and fled to the patio where hundreds of home-grown potatoes were tanning. We ran in circles, countless times, entertaining the potato crowed. Suddenly we stopped, you on one the side and I on the other. Face to face, separated by that yellow sea. You looked at me and at them, calculated the distance with your eye and fired a potato, then another… and many more followed. I swerved as best I could, snorting with laughter, until one hit me hard, right in the stomach. I put up with the pain and decided to retaliate. I looked at you, took a deep breath, picked up a potato and as I was building courage I heard:
– Don’t you dare!!” – I thought, just one… they’re right here!! And I shot.
There began an incredible war, you serious and I breaking up with laughter. (I was obviously aiming for your legs because I had no intentions of dying so young).
I don’t remember the end of this memory, however, I do know I didn’t pass out or got hurt. The bruises and pains of that day were so worth it! I was never in another potato war. Maybe one day, to relive your memory, I’ll designate the potato war day on my grandchildren.
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