“Look honey! A shooting star!”
“Yeah … They’re common this time of the year in August…
“That’s why I love August! It is the month of shooting stars!”
“Give me a break! –August of all months? That’s the month of mad dogs and the deaths of Presidents …Worst Friday the thirteenth there is! Now July, that’s a great time, a time for vacations and traveling!”
“Oh come on! July is a time for cold weather! Pollution upsurges and alternate car use days… Then just throw some flues and dog coughs in the mix while you’re at it! Not to mention the crowded hospitals! For me, January is a good time of the year: lots of beaches, little clothing, and mangaba fruit ice cream…”
“January?! God forbid! Don’t you remember the floods last year? Toppled-over rain buckets, everyone locked up at home playing solitaire and watching the same news on every channel! I hate January! Now if you had said February…”
“February?!!”
“Precisely, Edinaura. Carnival, when the whole gang goes out on the filth parade! February is the best!”
“I don’t think so, Ferdinand. February is when school starts. And that’s when I go face my band of dirty little two shoes; dirty faces, dirty hands. Dirty mouths, broken desks, broken windows, broken promises. Just thinking about February makes me depressed… May, now that’s the nicest time: Mother’s Day, children bringing flowers… Brides’ month, Coronation of Our Lady, our chests full of sighs…”
“You’re nuts, Naurinha! May is the month of strikes and protests; everyone wanting salary increases and nearly closing down my factory… I hate May! But June, now that gets me all hyped up; the World Cup comes and a shudder of excitement runs through Brazil from north to south!”
“There you go with soccer again… Twenty-two freaks chasing the same ball and a crowd all biting their nails! June sucks! Jerks setting off rockets, firecrackers and fireworks during festa junina… Kids blowing their fingers off, gunpowder burns, frantic firemen running back and forth trying to put out fires caused by those mini hot air balloons… I like March way more.”
“March? Why?”
“Well Nandinho, March is the month of guavas. MMmmm … Big white soft guavas…”
“You mean the ones full of worms, right? Stop being silly; March is income tax month, when the lion comes to gnaw on us! Now, November at least… November is jackfruit season!”
“Jaca! Only you! That thing takes three days to digest! But then, dear one, November is the election month… All that racket on radio and TV! Promises full of holes—official lies! And the same unimaginative coral: ‘My name is Oseias! My name is Oseias! My name is Oseias!’ November’s a drag! April has more charm: fragrant roses… Ahhh! April roses…”
“Woman really are hopelessly romantic little creatures… Nowadays they grow roses in greenhouses. At Barbacena they have roses all year long; just call and they’ll send you a truckload of them! Then in April is the month of fools. When it’s the 1st of April you can even make up a revolution! It’s just abhorrent!”
“Look, dear, another shooting star!”
“Yeah … We’re in August…”
“Gee, honey, we sure understand each other!”
“We sure do! We’re twin souls!
“Hm! I hate twins…”
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