When I head over to BK my older sister, Narcisa, sometimes drives me to the F train. She’s usually accompanied by her hubby, Willie and my H.N.I.C. (Head Niece In Charge), Alyssa. In the 10-minute ride to the F train, Aly and I catch up; well she takes the lead I just listen. The precocious 7-year-old tells me about her school friends, her Dora video game and anything else these young’uns are into these days.
Last week my sister for the first time ever lost her blanquita mom tactics (time out?) and gave her a spanking. I asked Aly in the car, “I heard you got spanked.” She said, “Yes, I did.” “What happened?,” I asked. “I don’t want to talk about it right now,” she said. Yesterday, she begins to tell me, “I ate ice cubes yesterday, then I drank some ice water and then some more ice cubes.” Fascinating! Her mom turns around and says, “Why does Aly always tell Jesus stories he doesn’t want to hear?” When the fact is that I love those stories. When she’s 16 and thinks I’m not cool anymore I’d love to hear a story about ice cubes rather than some punk she’s dating. Plus, if I’m lucky I get to see Aly once a week now so she can eat all the ice cubes she wants. Is there anyone you would like to see more often?
Uno,
Jesus
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