Christmas ingrate | 2003-01-13 - 6:11 p.m.

When I opened the door, I was sorprendida to see that it was almost dark outside. Huddled on the stoop like a par de wide-eyed lechuzas were mi madre and T�a Dolores. The three of us blinked in the crep�sculo for several segundos, as if alguien had frozen us in time. Then T�a Dolores broke the silencio. "Castigada!" exclam�. "Aren't you going to let us in? We brought you presents."

With a profound sentido of foreboding, I let them in. I saw them trade miradas of temor and disgust as they picked their way through the discarded pizza boxes and empty cans that littered the suelo, but neither of them said anything to me.

At length, they cleared a place on the sofa and sat down, clutching their Christmas regalitos to their faldas like talismans.

"We tried calling you, but your line's been tied up," said T�a Dolores.

"Since December 20th," my mother a�adi� peevishly.

"So we just decided to come over," T�a Dolores continued.

I wasn't sure what to say.

"We brought you presents, T�a Dolores repeated, as if this particular combinaci�n of palabras had magical propriedades.

En ese momento, I caught sight of a shiny black cucaracha scuttling out from the sofa by T�a Dolores' pierna. Would the polite thing be to ignore it, or to aplastarla for her? What would Martha Stewart say?

T�a Dolores settled el dilema by standing up and inadvertently stepping on the thing herself. "Here," she said, thrusting a package forward. "I thought you might like this."

Intrigada, I began opening the bulto, consciente of dos pares of eyes upon me. My hands trembled a little as I untied the ribbon, thanks to all the Diet Pepsi I had ingested earlier in the day.

"Oh ..." I exclaimed, pulling the present out and holding it up.

T�a Dolores sonri� smugly. "It's a Dustbuster," she announced. "I found it on sale."

"Muchas gracias, T�a. It's ... it's very useful."

"It should come in handy," she said, crossing here arms and eyeing the room. "You don't have one of them yet, do you?"

Mi madre then crossed the room to entregarme her package. "Here, Castigada," she said, lovingly placing it my manos. "Feliz Navidad."

I knew Mam� must have wrapped the package herself, as it had been sealed with multiple layers of heavy packing tape. When it comes to wrapping, Mam� is so thorough she could package heroin for international drug smugglers.

"Oh my God," I gasped, as I teared off the final layer. "It's a camera!" I could hardly contain my excitement. De repente, my cabeza was filled with happy visiones of me and Ken Burns shooting award-winning documentaries about life on the streets of V*n N*ys.

Mam� hesitated. "Well," she said, "it's not exactly a camera."

I took a closer look. "It looks like a camera," I said.

Mam� nodded. "That's right. It's supposed to."

"But it doesn't take pictures?"

"No."

For one chilling, disorienting segundo, I wondered if alguien had slipped a mind-altering drug into my last Diet Pepsi. How else to explain this sudden, complete departure from sentido?

Then I remembered I was hablando with Mam�.

"It's a simulated security camera," she was explicando. "You put it up by the door and unwanted visitors think they're being observed. It prevents them from busting into your apartment. Very important in this neighborhood."

When I later told the guys at work about Mam�'s gift, they laughed. "So your mom is so worried about your safety, she bought you a security camera for Christmas?" asked Eduardo.

"Yeah."

"But not so worried she'd spend money on a real camera?"

"Money had absolutamente nothing to do with it."

"What do you mean?"

I grimaced. "Mam� knows that if I had a real camera for screening out unwanted visitors, she'd never cross my doorstep again."

pride and prejudice - 2004-09-07
wherein I become a Yahoo! Search Result - 2004-06-23
like 9-11 all over again - 2004-06-20
enough said - 2003-02-05
tirar por la calle de en medio - 2003-01-28

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