Lets start with this young man. This is Kevin. Kevin is now seven
And here is my dad. He explores his world much the same way infants do, by putting things in his mouth. When they were here in CA last, he wandered down the street and found this Mexican place called Pon
cho's, where he had goat soup and menudo, and NEVER shut up about it. We finally lied to him and told him that Poncho died of Tuberculosis just so he'd stop asking us if we'd been there yet. After Christmas we told him his last present was that Poncho was, indeed, alive and well so far as we knew. Dad and I strolled the 8 blocks down Stockton Blvd., where much to our gustatory glee, the goat soup was hot, and the beer cold. I had a a burrito, but dad (seen here gnawing on a goat knuckle) had the soup. Viva la intestinal parasites!










