Buenos Aires, 1:20 am, December 11th.

It must have been the espresso and the yummy coffee ice cream that my mom ate that did it. For whatever reason, it is after 1 am and I am bouncing off the walls, crawling on the floor, ripping up guidebooks, and yelling happily to no one in particular.

My dad has been asleep for hours. When he stirred, my mom pointedly told him "Your daughter won't sleep." He muttered "Hit her then" and rolled over and went back to sleep.

He won't even remember it in the morning, I bet. Just to show him that he shouldn't say mean things like that, it's going on my blog.