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THAT’S BARRIO: Cucuy’s Revenge

June 5, 2010

When I was little my mother said the cucuy was gonna get me.

“The cucuy’s gonna get you,” I told her, “You do way more evil sh1t than I do.  I heard you loving thy neighbor last night.  I’m telling dad.”

She snatched the big wooden spoon off the kitchen wall.

I snatched my little brother from the crib.

She raised the spoon.

I raised a Jehovah’s Witness pamphlet to my little brother’s eyes.

My mother instantly dropped the spoon, “No!  Por favor, mijo!  Where’d you get that?!  Drop it, it’s evil!”

“You sure it’s evil?”

“Yes, please, throw it out!”

I threw my little brother out the window…BOOM, off the fence, into a tree.

“Not him!  The book!”

“Oh,” I ran to the backyard, pulled my little brother off this bee-hive, plucked the stingers from his body and brought him back inside all swollen.

“Put him back in his crib,” my mother pleaded.

“You think he’ll fit?  He’s pretty swollen.”

“Yes!  Put him back!”

“Is the cucuy or the spoon still gonna get me if I do?”

“No, I promise.”

“What about Mickey Mouse?  Is Mickey Mouse gonna get me?”

“Mickey Mouse is in Disneyland, mijo.  He can’t possibly get you.  And I can’t possibly get you there, it’s much too far away, you’re safe.”

“Okay, look,” I said, “Either you take me to see Mickey or I spiral your swollen baby back into that bee-hive like a football.  He won’t even fit in the Grand Canyon after the bees get through with him.”

“Okay!  I’ll take you, I’ll take you!”

“See?  I knew Disneyland wasn’t that far.”

And then I sung It’s A Small World After All.


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