The bus ride

Saturday morning in the south east side of Puerto Rico Juanita is getting dressed.  She walks into her son’s bedroom.  He is sitting on the floor playing.  “Carlitos put your sandals on.  We are going to the store.”

“No momma.  I don’t want to go.”

“Yes, you are going to town with me.  If you are good I’ll buy you a new toy.”

“Momma you always say that, but never get me anything.”

“That’s because you’re never a good boy.”

“I’m sick.”  He coughs.

“Carlitos get up and get dressed!  We are going to the store.”

“Momma, I don’t want to go.”  Carlitos begins to cry. 

“Carlitos, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t like riding in the bus.  The other kids make fun of me.”

“What other kids? I’ll go to their houses.”

“No momma.  The bus is stupid! I hate the bus!”

“Carlitos, Papi spent lots of money on the bus.  He bought new rims, new tires, tinted the windows and all the fancy speakers with the subwoofer.  You forgot it has air conditioning.”

“Ok I’ll go, but this time I’m going to be a good boy and you are going to buy me a toy.”

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