-
Lord of the Vinifan
yo vinifano, tu vinifanas, él vinifana…. “Parents have homework tonight,” El Híjo announced smugly as he dumped the cuadernos on the diningroom table earlier this week. He turned to me and El Fotógrafo: “You have to Vinifan them.” EF and I counted up the stack and groaned. Nine school notebooks to cover in clear, toxic-smelling plastic sheets known as Vinifan. This could take all night. “I know,” EH gloated. I shot EF a pleading look. “You know I’m no good at it. You’re the expert.”