Okay, I can’t stop crying. Not floods of tears, no, but it sure is coming in waves and doesn’t seem to stop.
I just left my friend’s son’s 18th birthday party. It was sort of an impromptu event that I feel I helped facilitate. It wasn’t that easy to produce and the cast of characters aren’t run-of-the-mill either. No, far from it.
Lead character is of course the Birthday Boy, a little person struggling with well, if that’s not enough, compound being a dwarf with the self-loathing of all teenagers. It’s a combustible combo.
Birthday Boy had recently confessed to his mother that his one big wish for his 18th was to be given a surprise party. Now, for years Birthday Boy has longed to be reunited with his young childhood live-in housekeeper/babysitter and her kids, his childhood surrogate brother and sister.
That’s where I come in. It’s where I came in 15 or so years ago when his mom and I first met as well. That would probably be a whole different story for a whole different type of blog, but I will tell you a condensed version. The babysitter/housekeepers, hers and mine, met either on the street or in a park. We speak Spanglish so it’s sometimes hard to get the stories straight. I kept hearing about their adventures by day, the babysitters taking our young kids to haggle in English for them at local yard sales that they called “yardas.” Birthday Boy’s mother and I were destined to meet because we now shared the same extended family. Good thing when we met, we instantly liked each other. (more…)