Digging A Hole, In Español

(My 84-year-old Swedish grandmother, who has never lived outside of our rural area populated almost exclusively by Swedes, Norwegians, and Finns, is excited to meet my Puerto Rican boyfriend.)

Grandma: *to my boyfriend* “So, how many times have you been back to Puerto Rico?”

Boyfriend: “Never, actually. My dad sort of left in disgrace.”

Grandma: “Oh! So you’re not really Hispanic!”

Aunt: “Mom! Come with me!”

(My aunt whisks grandma away while BF and I crack up. My cousin apologises profusely and my boyfriend laughs it off gracefully. Grandma is a dead ringer for Betty White, and is equally adorable and forgivable. 20 minutes later, grandma has cornered BF in the kitchen.)

Grandma: “So, how good is your Spanish? I imagine you’re fluent.”

Boyfriend: “Well, no. It’s pretty bad, since I was too lazy to learn as a kid.”

Grandma: “Goodness! So you’re not really Latino either!”

Aunt, cousin, mom, other cousin, brother, uncle: *in unison “Grandma! That is enough!”

(To this day, we still call my boyfriend the ‘Fauxtino’.)