MARSHMALLOWS

"what you love might kill you" when you are a boy that saying doesn't mean anything, that is unless you like marshmallows.

                    When I was between 5 or 6 years old I used to go  with my Dad (my superman) everywhere, by then He was working for a news paper, (no, sorry, I don't remember the name of the paper) and we traveled a lot and we used to stay in a very nice places: hotels, bungalows, and even resorts. This story took place precisely in one of the most well known resorts in the Morelos state,  Oaxtepec.

                    I loved being with my Dad, aside from the fact that wherever he took me I could have anything I wanted, and some of that was called "marshmallows",   those little, soft, sweet, and very good to eat (at least back then) were my "love" I liked them so much that the saying that I mentioned at the beginning of this story had at that moment some meaning to me.

                    In one occasion, while my Dad was playing cards with the hotel administrator and some other people, I was playing with my little friends outside of the hotel including the daughter of the hotel administrator. My Dad called me and he asked me to buy him some cigarettes (yes, back over there parents used to send their kids for anything: beer, cigarettes, matches, you name it) and that day my Dad gave me a $5 pesos bill  (don't change that to dollars, please)  which back then that was a lot of money, specially for a kid like me.
             So I went and got his cigarettes and when I was giving him the change I asked him "hey Dad, can I keep the change?" At that time I didn't realize that my Dad's response was based on the focus that he had on his card game and it was almost automatic, "yes, yes, that's fine!" that day stayed in my mind for two reasons. One, because I ate marshmallows like there was not tomorrow, bought marshmallows to all my little friends that were playing with me, including the daughter of the hotel administrator, and two, because, later after my Dad has finished playing cards (and after his mind and eyes were off the playing table) he came up to me and asked me for his $ 5 pesos bill change!! 
            Unbelievable!! I mean, I could be presumably short minded, or with lack of memory retention, but not even an hour had passed and my Dad already forgot that he allowed  me to keep that change!!  (unless he meant, keep it for me for later, in which case I would have to rewrite this story)  I got the (beating) spanking of my life!! and I owed it to my beloved marshmallows.
               And there it is, "what you love, might kill you", My Dad tried to make the situation softer by telling me that,  that was a lot of money, that he didn't mean to hurt me, that. .. . . He went on, and on, but in my little fragile mind, I could not assimilate why I got punished, just because I asked for something (to keep the change) and that my happiness for eating so many marshmallows had to have so cruel end. 
               Today I still eat a lot of marshmallows and I guess the difference is that I'm not getting spanked for it, anyway, I hope that all of you liked this story, for those that did not, don't worry, your story is coming soon, for the moment stayed safe, if you drink don't drive, and if you drive, stay out of my way!!, until the next story, you'll read me later, over n' out.

           

A SELF EFFICIENT CHILD

           I believed that our childhood ends whenever you have to buy your own Jell-o.
                  Being a child is tough anywhere in the world, but specially in any latino countries, and mine was not an exception even today, whenever I tell this story, some people (specially woman) feel like they have to, or do cry. 
                 For this I have to go a little bit back in time, (just a little) to when I was 7 years old, at that age I was in second grade in the "Lidice" Elementary school and I was being raised by a single parent, my Father (Superman to me) whom always (whenever I was asking him for some money) told me "you have to learn how to work to earn your own money" or "the golondrinas will not going to feed you" and at the time when I was asking him to go with me somewhere, because it was to late, or to dark, or to far, he used to tell me "You have to learn how to do things on your own, not always I'm going to be with you" and I remember coming back to him with "of course you will always going to be here with me" unfortunately for me (as for everybody) time would teach me a lesson in that remark. 
                     I remember been very specific on whatever I wanted,  and whatever it was I was getting it, even if I had to work for it, and this has to do with me liking jell-o a lot, to the point that when my dad stopped giving me money to buy it, I went to the store, shop, or whatever it was, (I didn't care, I just wanted to make some money to buy my own jell-o) and I told the owner that I wanted to sell jell-o for him, and I have no idea why he'd agreed and there I was, with a big tray with at least 15 jel-lo pieces, (including some of my favorites) and that would take me a couple of hours to sell them, and later on there I was me a happy kid, eating my favorite jell-o that I bought with my very own earned money.
              Earning money to buy my own jello was not always easy, for example one day in an effort to sell all of my merchandise, as innocently as it may have seemed to me, I tripped and fell and logically my jello pieces(about 8) were all over the ground, but knowing that I could not lose that many pieces, I picked them up, washed the dirt off of them put them back in the tray and sold them all!.  
          Needless to say that some (if not all) people complained about it, saying that they felt like if dirt were on them, and I just said, "really? that's weird!, I don't know why, nobody had said nothing to me before" after that, I never bought jell-o from any of the kids on the street, Jell-o has fallen off from my new priority list, I still love jell-o, specially the cherry flavor, I guess is not because I'm not a child any longer, but because is not as exciting as it used to be.
                  I'll come back to all of you with more (no, no more jell-o stories), meanwhile stay safe, eat your vegetables, and you'll read me later alligator. over n' out.