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MIJA: You Want a Puppy? Hell No!

December 11, 2010

Mija was kneeling by her bed-side, eyes shut tight, little chubby hands clasped together.

“What are you praying for, mija?  Some rims to go with your llantitas?  Some dinner to go with the rolls on the back of your neck?  A bucket to catch the water that leaks from your ceiling?  What are you praying for?”

“I’m praying for a puppy, daddy.”

“You should’ve said so!  Go to sleep.  When you wake up you’ll have a puppy under the Christmas tree.”

She hopped on the bed, slid under the covers and fell asleep in the puddle of water that had formed from the leak in the ceiling…pretty soon she’d need swimming lessons or hafta learn to let her llantitas keep her afloat.

I headed out, paused, returned and splashed water on her face.

She sprung up, choking, coughing, “What is it daddy?!”

“What kind’a puppy you want?”

“I want a pit bull, he’ll protect me.”

“Okay, go back to sleep.”

She fell back asleep on her water bed.

I drove to the pound, ready to adopt a pit, but had second thoughts and decided not to.

I drove back home…morning came, drenched mija ran up to the Christmas tree, froze and slumped when she noticed no puppy under the tree.

“Where’s my puppy, daddy?”

“You don’t deserve a puppy.  Not after the way I seen you lay all your weight on that poodle on your bed last night.”

I handed her the lone wrapped Christmas present, “Go ahead, open it, you’ll like it.  It’s something you need, not like some stupid puppy.”

She opened it…a one-piece bathing suit, “A bathing suit?” She asked.

“More like pajamas,” I said.

Corona

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