So my little brother, Martín (2 yrs) is sick. He’s been very grumpy and cry-y all day long and eventually I caught on that it was because he was sick. I think I also caught on last night when he was vomiting in the kitchen sink. ANYWAY. I feel for him, he’s super cute and no one likes a sicky baby.
Last night my dad’s cousin was in a car accident. The car FLIPPED on the road and was upside down and the roads to Lumbisí are so twisty-turny—thank god that he wasn’t hurt at all and didn’t even go to the hospital. Well, getting to the point of the story:
Since the whole family was up at three a.m. due to the accident, all the little kidney beans put themselves WILLINGLY to bed (without even saying goodnight) at seven-thirty. (Normal bedtime here nine or nine-thirty—and weekdays that goes for me as well!) I’m busy at this nice new desk they bought two weeks ago, drowning in a sea of confusion for my Themes of Latin America class when I notice that BOTH parents are preparing to shower and in fact BOTH parents ARE showering at the SAME TIME.
It’s cool that they want to take advantage of the rare moment of tranquility and freedom in this house. They’ve normally got a lot on their plate.
I mean, it’s cool AND it’s weird, because the shower room isn’t in a separate part of the house. I guess that’s why the dad kept turning up the television volume after I kept sneaking to try and turn it down whenever the room was empty… ANYWAY.
So I’m just ignoring the fact that I have to pee and I’m ignoring the fact that I’m pretty sure the parents are getting a little freaky-deaky in the shower, splish-splashin’ and all that shit when LO and BEHOLD little Martín starts screaming his lungs off.
I can’t ignore a sick baby! So I try my best to comfort him but when you’re two years old and sick all you want is your mom. In fact, I’m 20 and when I was sick last weekend I still only wanted my mom, so what’s that mean? It means: the kid isn’t going to stop fussing regardless of what I do for him. So what, you ask?
I HAD TO KNOCK ON THE DOOR WHILE MY PARENTS WERE SHOWERING TOGETHER AND INTERUPT WHATEVER WAS GOING ON IN THERE.
WAS THAT WAS SUPER AWKWARD?
In fact, noone even answered right away. I actually took Isaac to the kitchen to try and get him either a cool washrag since he was burning up or some water, since he normally likes that. I had to wait for the parents to be ready and then the mom opened the door and called for him. And I had to bring him to her, while she was in a towel and the dad was still in the shower because Martín had settled a little bit in my arms and certainly wouldn’t have adjusted well to be set on the floor to walk to her.
No, wait, I’m wrong—that wasn’t stereotypical Ecuador that was just stereotypical my a veces stupid life.
A few minutes after the mom got dressed in the bathroom and came out with Martín the dad came out and sat on the couch, breathing hard with a hint of disappoint. It was weird.
Sorry this was long, gonna stop thinking about it now,