Sweezus looks at his watch for the twelfth time.
Ten forty two.
When will José and George stop talking?
They drone on about the architect Antoni Gaudi. And about how freaking long ......
Sweezus stares up at the Sagrada Familia.
Saint Joseph looks down. His lip curls when he sees Sweezus.
He nudges the Virgin.
Look down there, honey.
She looks.What a ridiculous hairstyle! What comical shorts. Bender Mash, if she knows her beach shorts. She smiles a watery smile and tries to avert the eyes of her baby.
The baby's eyes won't be averted. No, mama! I want to look at the funny....waaah! daddy! mama hit me!
.........be finished by 2026, says George Santayana.
Or possibly later, says José Ortega y Gasset.
Woah, says Sweezus. How come you you guys know so much about buildings?
We are intellectuals, says José Ortega y Gasset. We have intellectual curiosity.
Awesome, says Sweezus. I'm into that. I mean yeah. Not that exactly. Not buildings.
Nihil humanum mihi alienum est, says George Santayana.
Aliens, says Sweezus. Now you're talking.
Not that exactly, says José Ortega y Gasset. It's Terence.
Oh, says Sweezus. He looks at his watch.
Ten fifty. Nowhere near lunch time.
Crash!
The baby has squirmed from the arms of his mama, and dropped to the ground in front of the man in the beach shorts. Naturally, the baby's not broken. Not even chipped. He holds up his chubby little arms.
Sweezus wonders what will happen when he picks up the baby.
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