“I could name our cat Harry, or Harriet if it’s a girl,” I said. We were at the Origen Café (again) and I had finished my Pita Pollo. Dad was still eating his chicken, Mom had given up on her Vegetarian Wok, and Ethan had eaten half his Caprese Pizza. Ethan and I were talking about pets.

“What if you’re still not obsessed with them?” he asked, meaning One Direction. Dad looked over at Ethan. “Them? Harry has multiple personalities now? Harry and Shavy?” I groaned. Everyone else laughed, and Mom said, “That’s something you don’t need to put in your post, Eryn.”

“What if I want to?”

“I will!” Ethan announced.

“Harry will be insulted,” I protested.

“It would be great if he was reading our website, but he’s not,” Mom pointed out.

You don’t know that, I thought. “Wouldn’t it be really great if he saw it? He would find out about it because I posted it!” Ethan went on. “Eryn would have to give me all the credit!”

Well, I don’t think Ethan wrote about that, so it’ll be all my fault if Harry sees himself on our website.

We woke up this morning hungry and expectant for waffles but guess what? Wafles Sur was closed! So we’ll try tomorrow… and the next day… and the next. I do hope it opens.

After our great disappointment to our great expectations, we wandered over to the Independencia subte station where we rode to San Martin Plaza. We walked from there up Santa Fe Avenue to Avenida 9 de Julio, which, at twenty lanes, is the widest boulevard in the world. And the Argentineans even drive on the right (and correct) side of the road!

We continued up Santa Fe to Libertad, where we got some more pesos. Pictures and video clips from a train crash were being shown on the TV.

We walked to a subte station, going into two pet stores where I saw a chinchilla dust bath, a Yorkie puppy, and some ferrets. Once we got to the other end of our subte ride, we looked at the cats in the botanical garden before walking on to Museo Evita, which was mostly in Spanish. Despite that, I think we left knowing more about Eva Perón, who died of cancer at thirty-three.

Ciao!