Me: Do you have black widows near where you live in Mexico?
Humberto: What?
Me: Yeah, they're scary. Right?
Humberto: I guess so...we just call them gangsters.
Me: Wait, what?
Humberto: You said "black weirdos," right?
Humberto: In the mornings, I am the baddest Mexican.
And sometimes I have to remember bowl or cereal first.
Humberto: I miss cigarettes.
Me: How much did you smoke in Mexico?
Humberto: At parties, maybe one...
Me: Oh. Well that's not very much.
Humberto: ...pack.
After a long silence at the dinner table
Humberto (To my sister): Why are you cracking your toes against my leg?
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