HAVANA TIMES, Sept. 27 — Around 9 o’clock last night, while I was passionately reading an autobiography, my youngest daughter interrupted me. With the face of a good little girl, she announced: “Mummy, I’m hungry.”
“Hungry?” I asked surprised, since coincidentally that night she had eaten a full supper with nothing left on the plate.
“Yes, I’m really hungry,” she said with a frown.
“Okay, let’s see… hungry for what? What do you want to eat?” I asked.
“Some cookies, I want some cookies.”
“No, we don’t have any.”
“And ice cream – isn’t there any ice cream?”
“No, there’s no ice cream either.”
“A little piece of chocolate?”
“No, honey, there’s no chocolate either,” I told her sadly.
“But there’s some packaged ham, I saw it.”
“No, it’s gone. Your sister ate the last piece.”
“So, what is there, then?” she asked, annoyed.
“Milk, there’s some warm milk. Would you like a little? It’s delicious, it’s got anise in it.”
“Milk? No, I don’t want any milk. Maybe you better give me a book to read instead.”
“A book?” I exclaimed, taken aback.
“Yes, a book. That will surely bore me and take away my appetite.”