Oh, Those Terrible Little Boys

As children and even into our early twenties, our friends play a huge role in shaping who we are. They influence our interests, from music to fashion, to the movies we love and how we want to be perceived. This becomes a big part of what makes us, US. My grandmother was one of my best friends. I grew up watching musicals with her, twirling around in beautiful dresses she made me, watching soap operas, running around the sorority and listening to stories of her life. She became me and I became her. 

As an only child and someone who didn’t even have their first kiss until probably 16 years old, I lived for her tales of sibling rivalry, big parties in fancy dresses, and grand romantic gestures from boys. Reliving it once again with her now; I love knowing it really was as magical for her as it was for me. 

____________________________________________________________________________

A Magical Childhood 

Okay so let’s go back to my childhood. It was just the 3 of us for a long time, my two brothers, Fernando and Manuel, and myself. We just had such an easy and happy childhood. In the summers we would spend our time between La Paz and Cochabamba, we were always playing outside together and didn’t have a care in the world.  We had a beautiful big house and a lot of privileges that most kids at the time did not have, but we did. I was remembering our life in Oruro and how it was such a wonderful time. We would have breakfast in bed before school each morning. The maids would bring in our trays and I can still remember them even now. I had a beautiful pink tray, Fernando had a blue tray, and Manuel had a green one. The maids would come in and help us with breakfast then get us dressed for school. Every day was the same thing, nothing special, but we didn't know anything else except this wonderful happy life full of playing, parents that loved us, and good friends. It was an incredible and magical childhood.

It wasn’t until I was an adult and started to understand the history of our town that I realized why we were able to have so many things. During that time World War II was going on, but we were never really aware of it. Oruro, where we lived, was a mining town that had tin mines. And during World War II we sold all of our tin to the United States so they could make guns and other materials they needed. So it made this little town a very affluent and rich town. Everybody was making money because of the tin and the industries that came with it and that is also why we had American and British schools. I remember every Wednesday we had live lobsters delivered to our house from Chile. LIVE lobsters. We never wanted for anything.

That lasted for all of our childhood until more steel and plastic came and tin became not as necessary. It was then the town started going downhill, and that is when we had to leave it. But before that, all we had to worry about was playing, having fun, and enjoying the magic.

Oh Those Terrible Little Boys 

We would play in the evenings outside on the streets as there were not a lot of cars. There were a lot of kids in our neighborhood and my brothers would play soccer, or I should say fútbol, and I remember I wanted to play with them but they wouldn't let me so I would have to go and tell my dad. When they would have to let me play, they would make me goalie and stick me on the far side of the field and somehow they would never come to my side. I would watch them play only at the other end and I would cry and cry.

My brothers could be a pain, even when they were very little they would get into a lot of trouble. My brother Fernando was a year older than Manuel but he would guide him into all kinds of problems. Even when he was little and Mannin was only just crawling, he would follow Fernando. One Christmas, Fernando got a toy car and he would ride around the patio with his cat. He had this little kitten, and he would take the kitty everywhere with him. One day my mom found Fernando giving the kitty a bath in the toilet. So there was this little kitten all wet in the toilet full of soap and bubbles. Oh he was always in so much trouble. And the older we got the more trouble they both got in. We lived close by the mines so they got to know the miners and would spend all day playing in the mines. My mom would get so mad! They would also go on top of people’s houses and jump from roof to roof all over town and I would cry and beg them to come down. Oh those terrible little boys.

The older we got the more protective they became. When I was old enough to start dating, if I had a boyfriend we would all go to the movies together. If my boyfriend asked to sit next to me at the movies, they would let him, but then they would blackmail me. When we got home Fernando would ask for my dessert, and if I said ‘no’, he would then threaten to tell mom I let a boy sit next to me at the movies! So I would give him my dessert.

Then, when we were even older, they would charge money to my boyfriends who came to visit me. When they would come to the door and ask for me they would make them pay them in order to see me. My mom would get so mad at them; “these are students they don't have money!”  Fernando would then say “if they want to see my sister, they have to pay”. And even worse if they didn't like the boys they would throw rocks at them! I didn't even know this was happening; the boys would just never show up again. The older we got I knew they would always be there for me though. They liked Henry Mendez, they accepted him and then of course they grew to love him very much. But oh the poor guys that they didn't like. 

A Kiss to Remember 

That got me thinking about boyfriends and some of my firsts. My first kiss was when I was 9 years old. This boy Poncho was a cute little guy with freckles, and he came up to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I was so scared that I slapped him and you know what!? He slapped me back! And then we got into a fist fight. SO that was an exciting first kiss. 

____________________________________________________________________________

I am trying to finish up this post, our third story in a life of a thousand stories, while my son eats breakfast and gets ready for school. I hear him practicing his reading right next to me, blowing his stuffy nose, and every two minutes he comes up and asks if he can press buttons. I’m a little over stimulated if I am honest. I look around my messy kitchen, thinking of todo list upon todo list, taking deep breaths as I try to focus; and then it hits me. This perfect, sometimes overwhelming messy little life is mine, because of her. These moments are MY little stories, my parts 1, 2, 3… of what I am hoping becomes thousands more.