Growing up the daughter of a Mexican mother and a Puerto Rican Father I can say something that I’m sure many of my Latino brothers and sisters can relate to: We’re loud. Well, not loud. Um. Animated. Passionate. Blunt. Okay. Maybe that’s just my family, pero tu sabes.
I don’t know about you, but holidays are when we all got the scoop on everyone because it’s usually the only time most of us would be under one roof. And trust me, that house would be bustin’ at the seams because there are so many of us in my family.
There’s usually that one person that would call you out if you were in the wrong about something or you needed some kind of swift kick in the pants from the rest of the family.
For me, that person is my Tia Josie. She’s pretty straightforward and tells it like it is. She will look you dead in the face and tell you whatever it is she has to say that will put you back into your place, and you better not say anything in response or even after she leaves the kitchen to go outside for a smoke, because well, you just don’t.