Sundays/ Domingo

We can lay in bed all (día),

And never run out of things to say.

You let me cry out all my sad,

And then you tell me stories about your dad (papá).

You’ll say we should go eat (comer),

And you’ll make fun of my feet.

We’ll sit on the couch,

And wrestle (luchar) around until I tap out. 

We’ll watch the different sporting games,

And as you’re explaining (explicando) them, you’ll call me lame. 

I suggest we take a shower (ducha),

And you’ll tell me how you want to visit the Eiffel Tower.

You’ll let me do my face mask,

And even you will get in on this task (tarea).

We’ll go and get ice cream (helado),

You’ll try to eat some of mine and I’ll beam.

We lay in bed and talk about our friends (amigos),

And discuss what trouble we got into that weekend.

Then I’ll roll over and your arms find me,

And that’s when I realize you’re the home (casa) where I always want to be