From the diary of Griselda Vargas-Beilschmidt

74

You have NO IDEA how hard to write this chapter was. Phew.

So... just a few hours later, and we're not at home anymore. We're not in Europe anymore. And I have to say, America really has a nice weekend house. Big. Somehow it can fit all uh, 24 of us. Oh, and all of our pets, meaning Mitzi and our three dogs, Canada's bear, America's fish, Gilbird, Iceland's puffin, and a brand new addition called Rosalin. I think I'll start from the beginning.

So I was happily sitting at home, watching the notebook buuuuuuurn, eating the fresh gingerbread and arguing with Gabi over which flavour of it is better. It was peaceful. Fred took the dogs and Canada's bear Kuma outside on a walk, and came home cackling like a madman, because apparently people's reactions to seeing a boy walking a bear were hilarious. I hope they won't call the police on him, that'd be bad D: (yeah, Gabi didn't look like he cared about his best friend being arrested too much. Only commented "just your average Canadian", and added a mocking "eh?" Then Fred highfived him. In the face. Boys.)

The dinnertime was quickly approaching, but before that, Uncle Spain said he's got a gift for Gabriel that can't wait until morning, and it's waiting for him in the garden. He was smiling the biggest smile he's capable of, and even though Gabi protested it's cold outside, he went over there.

"So? Where is it?!" he called grumpily, burying his face deeper into his coat. I went only in a sweater and Fred had his new hoodie that started to stink a bit by now. Apparently he did keep his promise about not even washing it.

And then there was something oinking and Uncle Spain pointed at a small... piggy?! with a collar, tied to a stick in the ground. He untied it and Gabe's eyes shone like a million stars. I don't think I've ever seen him like that. That's... that's a pig, right there. Why is it here again? Oh, is that the present?? Oh my.

Then Gabe squealed like a little girl and rushed to the pig, who also had a ribbon around its neck, and, yeah, it was kind of cute, but not just my type of cute, you know? Gabriel apparently thought something different, because he was laughing in delight, petting the pig with a soft expression. Fred was just as confused as me, and produced an eloquent "Eeeeeeeeeh?"

"Mama... is it really...?" Gabe asked so quietly you could've easily missed it. What. The hell. Uncle Spain smiled as he nodded, explaining that "It's a she."

"She," Gabriel repeated like a prayer. "I'll call her... I'll call her... Rosa-Rosalin."

"Rosalin?" I asked.

"Si, Grissy, after you, in fact," he laughed. Wait wha-ooooh.

Remember when I told you my second name was supposed to be Rosa? Well, Gabriel knows about it, of course he does. And he just used it! And I honestly don't know how to feel about it.

Meanwhile Fred has such a lost expression I smile. He looks so cute! Then he tilted his head. "I... could somebody please explain to me what just happened?"

Gabriel gathered the softly oinking piggy in his arms and I said "Love at first sight." And it was beautiful. Gabe didn't even deny it.

=

"You got him a what?!" Vati was also very... surprised by Gabriel's currently sleeping in his arms gift. "Hey, potato bastard, she has a name!" he hissed to not wake her up. Uncle Romano patted Gabe's back proudly and Vati sighed. "Romano's kid..."

Well, at least Gabi is happy, cooing at the pig in the safety of his bed with all the other pets behind a locked door.

Fred wanted to watch a movie later, but Rosalin was still sleeping, and Gabriel was sending him death promising glares, so when we washed, we just talked. And talked. Quietly, of course. Rosalin was snoring. I see they're going to get very much along with Gabe.

Anyway, so it was almost time to go to sleep when we heard a exteremely loud thump! on the roof. On the roof! Rosalin didn't wake up, but Gabe was glaring daggers nonetheless. Me and the others were just spooked. What the hell?! So I opened the window to look what's up, but before I could do that, a voice called "Watch out y'all!" before we had two people dressed in Santa outfits in the guest bedroom, wiggling on the floor.

"Get off, Alf!"

"I... can't... breathe..."

One person in a Santa outfit flipping the other over their shoulder like it's a martial arts class in our bedroom is something I surely didn't expect, especially at about half ten o'clock in the night. The person then turned their attention to us, smiling and waving.

"'Sup dudes!"

And that's how we found ourselves in pyjamas on a private jet to America on the night before Christmas with two Americans, who take the holiday way too seriously, and a pig named Rosalin.