I push open the door and step into the house, amidst all the chaos and noise, and think It's good to be home.
I can't always get away for Sunday dinners during the season, but today is an exception, and I've been looking forward to it all week. All my brothers and sisters show up with their kids. Mama usually makes enchiladas of some kind and all the fixings to go with it. I don't know how she does it, but not only do we get our fill, she always makes enough to send us away with leftovers. That might be my favorite part.
"Tio Daniel!" a little voice squeals, and I see a mass of dark curls barreling toward me. I catch her as she launches herself into my arms.
"Mila," I say with a smile, hugging her tightly. "How's mi corazon?"
"I'm four now, Tio," she says, holding up four fingers so I don't misunderstand how old she is.