Blame it on Fidel
Hello, my name is Anna and I am nine years old. I wish you had known me before - I mean before my aunt Marga and my cousin Pilar came to my parents'house -, I was such a happy little girl. Before their coming life was a bed of roses. Of course my little brother could be a pain in the neck - little brothers always are, aren't they? - but there was that wonderful big house, there was my Cuban-born nanny who cooked so well, there was the bath before dinner, not to mention this wonderful catechism class at the catholic school. But they did come, those Spanish intruders. And now never heard before names like 'Franco', 'Allende', 'Women's Lib', 'abortion', the lot, have got into my life. Daddy and Mummy have suddenly become 'communists', although this a term that Bon Papa and Bonne Maman (my grandparents from Bordeaux, in fact) just hate. Because of the intruders not only did we move to a tiny apartment but the place is invaded day and night by 'barbudos' (bearded men). No more bath before dinner and no more catechism class. How long will I be able to tolerate such a scandal?
Cast
