To me, there's nothing like walking down the street on a Sunday morning in Mexico. Most men here work 6 days a week, and have Sundays off. The difference of daddies being home is obvious.
It almost feels like everyone takes a deep breath, exhales slowly and completely... and then just enjoys the day. Radios everywhere are turned on, pumping ballads and corridos out onto the streets. The usual traffic of work trucks and men on bikes going to work is stopped. Dads sit out on their front door steps, in sweats with their hair standing up--watching their kids play in the street.
It seems the wind blows softer, the sun shines warmer. Things just slow down. People's faces--usually lined with the urgency of appointments and bread winning--are relaxed. More ready to smile. "Buenos días," is spoken more generously.
And I, walking to our corner store, breathe it in. Smile at the group of boys showing off their marble skills to somebody's dad-in-pajamas. Think about how later on I will be smelling the smell of meat being grilled at many people's houses. And, for the millionth time, tell myself how much I love domingos.