by David Bolton
matter of fact, her accent was so strong that at first, I couldn't understand a word she was sayin'. Guess it was because she was speakin' Spanish, like Mom and Dad told her to, 'cause they wanted me to learn it.
Anyway, it's been a few months now, and I like − or should I say liked? − Maria more than ever. So today, after that second smile she flashed me, I thought it might be time to make my move.
After all, suppose I dropped dead tomorrow of crib fever or somethin', and never got a chance to go through with it? No, life is too short to pro-krastinate (or however the heck you spell that), so I knew right then and there that even before early afternoon nap time came around, I'd put my plan into action!
Now, not bein' able to talk yet might have been an obstacle for some babies, but not for Yours Truly! After all, I don't have my dual-core laptop with 250GB hard disk drive for nothin'!
I can't talk? No problem! I just type everything I wanna say in my favorite freeware word processor, Notepad++, and point to the screen when I'm finished. That's how I get Mom and Dad to understand me, and I thought it might work on Marìa, too, even if she hadn't gone to college, or for all I know, even high school or grade school before she sneaked across the border and put that "Nanny abailavle" ad in Craig's List, where Mom found it. (Don't worry, I've since taught María the difference between a "v" and a "b" − she used to think they were the same thing!).
Anyway, my plan was this...
When María came to turn off the TV at 12:30 (always a sure sign she wants me to take my early afternoon nap), I would have already typed my intention into my laptop, and would show it to her... which is what I did.
But lemme give you the rest of this as it occurred in real time. If it works for "24" (my favorite show, by the way, though I gotta secretly download it from a torrent site, since Mom and Dad won't let me watch it on TV), it'll work for me...
So here's the sad story... (I'll give you a translation, too, in case you didn't have a shapely Mexican nanny yourself.)
12:29:28 PM "Oye, chiquito, tengo que apagar la Tele, LeRrroycito necesita su siestecita!" (Boy, I love the way she rolls that "r" when she says my name!) My official loose translation: Hey, lil' guy, I gotta turn off the TV, lil' LeRoy needs his lil' nap!
12:29:32 PM María pushes button on remote to turn off TV. Didn't bother me, since there was nothin' good on anyway.
12:29:39 PM María reaches over the top of my playpen to give me my pacifier, naively believing, as always, that it'll help me get to sleep − as if I couldn't doze off at the drop of a sombrero!
12:29:41 PM Neglectin' her outstretched hand with the pacifier in it, I instead point to the screen on my laptop, to show her what I had written:
"Dear María. I love you! When I see myself reflected in your mysterious dark eyes, it's as if I were viewing myself ecstatically dissolving in a sea of stars, one that forms the cosmos of your noble soul.
"My Love, my intentions are sincere and honorable, so listen to my proposal with the earnestness rightly due to an expression of heart-felt love, a love more eternal than those conflicts in the Middle East.
"María − my love − Will you marry me?
"You don't have to answer now: I know that I must reach the necessary age first, but they say that for you adults, time flies, so I'm not asking you for much patience, only 17 years or so, more or less.
"María − will you be my wife?
Always Yours,
LeRoy
12:29:45 PM Curious, María begins to read aloud, and very slowly. And I do mean slowly. So slowly that I almost could have taken my early afternoon nap before she was finished. As a matter of fact, I don't think she ever did finish, since she just kept starin' at my text with a puzzled look on her sweet, smooth-skinned face.
12:40:15 PM After almost eleven minutes, I'm wonderin' whether Maria needs glasses, since my font - Pristina 16 - was definitely big enough, yet she was still gazin' at the screen, puzzled.
12:40:30 PM It dawns on me that María can't read any English. I scroll down a bit, so that she can see my Spanish version, that I had prepared for just such an eventuality:
"Querida María. ¡Te quiero! Cuando me veo reflejado en tus misteriosos ojos oscuros, es como si me estuviera viéndome disolviendo con éxtasis en un mar de estrellas, que forman el cosmos de tu alma.
"Mi amor, mis intenciones son sinceras y honorables, así que escucha mi propuesta con la seriedad que merece la expresión de un amor del corazón, y que es más eterno que los conflictos en el oriente medio.
"María − mi corazón − ¿Te casarás conmigo?
"No hace falta responder ahora: sé que tenemos que esperar hasta que yo cumpla la edad necesaria, pero se dice que para vosotros adultos, el tiempo pasa volando, así que no te estoy pidiendo tanta paciencia, sólo 17 añecitos, más o menos.
"María, ¿quieres ser mi mujer?
"El tuyo para siempre,
"LeRoy
12:40:34 PM I hope that María can read Spanish; after all, I believe that despite all her endearin' qualities, exceptional literacy isn't one of 'em.
12:41:15 PM I learn that María can read Spanish. And I learn it the hard way. I mean, this way was so hard that you could beat it with my dad's hammer till you're blue in the face, and it still wouldn't break. Unfortunately, my heart isn't nearly as hard, and it does break when she's finished readin' and crushes me with her cruelly spontaneous and despicably undiplomatic reaction:
12:41:16 "Ja ja, chiquito! ¡Qué dulce eres! Pero ¿qué bobadas escribes? ¡No digas tonterías! ¡Yo nunca voy a casarme contigo!" ["Hah hah, little one! How sweet you are! But what nonsense do you write? Don't say silly things! I'll never marry you!" ]
12:41:44 María shoves the darned pacifier into my mouth, pushes me down onto one half of my fake-fur blanket, and covers me up with the other half, then leaves the room, still laughin'.
12:42:11 María has - mercifully - finally stopped that stupid gigglin', and is now whistlin' some tune she prob'ly learned before that night-time swim of hers across the Rio Grande. Right now, I wish she had drowned on the way over!
Dear reader, that last statement of mine might shock some of you. After all, they say that drownin' is none too pleasant − your lungs feel this burning sensation, you can't get any air, you wish you had believed those fanatics who say things like "If God had meant for people to swim, he'd have given us fins"... and then it's lights out!
Well, maybe the "lights out" here just means "lights on" in some other world, one better than here, one where even if you are just 11 months old, your shapely Mexican nanny would immediately agree to marry you on the spot. But I learned at that fatal moment - 12:41:16 PM (see above), that that wasn't gonna happen in this world, and that really burst my bubble, lemme tell ya!
Now, I know rejections are always painful, but gimme a break! At least María could have used some worn-out, though time-tested, line like: "Oh LeRoy, you're a really nice guy, but I already have a boyfriend."
Or even: "LeRoy, you're really cute, and I'm sure there are many shapely Mexican nannies who would love to marry you, but I'm just not in love with you. Can't we just be friends?"
Okay, that "can't we just be friends" line pierces your heart like an obsidian-headed arrow from the bow of some savage Aztec right out of the Distrito Federal, but even that would be a heck of a lot better than laughin' in my face!
Now, I'm a tolerant baby. A black president? No problem! If CNN loves President Obama, then I don't see why I shouldn't; after all, I love CNN, so any friend of theirs... you get the idea.
Favored nation status for China? Sure, why not! So what if they don't look like us: there are over a billion of 'em, so they can't be wrong!
Lettin' Native Americans build and run profitable casinos, even in states where somebody of another racial persuasion wouldn't be allowed to do so?
Heck, that doesn't bother me at all! I love playin' online roulette, and when I'm bigger, I can go to a real, land-based casino, an
d not only play some games, but even get the autographs of Sitting Bull, Chief Crazy Horse, and some of those other neat guys with feather headdresses that I saw on some old movies. (I heard that back when those movies were made, they were called "Indians", just in case you don't see the connection.)
But startin' today, and I'm afraid to say, "thanks" to María, I do have a prejudice against Mexicans, at least against Mexicans who are have decided to get through life by bein' shapely Mexican nannies for babies like me.
Anyway, you get the picture:
I was stunned. Shocked. Horrified. Mortified. Petrified. As you can see, my life hasn't been long enough to acquire the words necessary to fully display the depths of my despair.
I lay there in the playpen − my ears accosted by the sound of her whistlin' that dumb Mexican tune − and wished I were dead.
12:45:13 PM I consider wrappin' a plastic bag over my head, tyin' it at the neck with a ribbon, and doin' myself in. Not only would my misery end, but everybody'd think that Maria did it, and she'd get sent to the chair! That'd fix her! I savor the plan for a minute...
12:46:14 PM I figure the plan wouldn't work, first, since my parents hide all the plastic bags from me, second, because I don't have a ribbon, and third, cause there's no death penalty in my state. (But help me out here: how did they used to kill somebody by sendin' 'em to a chair, anyway? Did they beat 'em to death with the chair, or what?)
12:47:12 PM I consider fallin'