 Your abuelita was listening. It brought tears to her eyes. Was it that bad? No, no. It's because your abuelo played the guitar. You see, it's in your blood. Was Grandpa good? I always thought so. He played for years. In fact, when he was courting your abuelita, he used to go to her house to serenade her on the veranda. The veranda? I thought you said he played the guitar. Go wash your hands. Yes, ma'am.