Showing posts with label drawing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drawing. Show all posts
Friday, June 7, 2013
Monday, February 11, 2013
PAN DULCE
There was once a time when I was 6, with loose baby teeth and a messy ponytail (?). My mother wasn't too hairstyle-friendly or skilled.
But this one time in my life I befriended my next door neighbor, whose name was Stephanie. She was in a different class than I was, but we were in the same grade. We would carpool together, and our mothers would upkeep light conversation for us. I would ask her where she got those Mexican watermelon-shaped lollipops, those Vero Rebanaditas Paletas. And we would both make some homemade pan dulce. Other times, she would stop by for some awkward play time at my place with my messy-haired Ariel doll.
And one day, out of nowhere, she left a cartoon drawing of me on our welcome mat. On some wide-ruled paper, torn sloppily and half-assed from the spiral-bound notebook, was a marker and crayon duo manifestation of me. Me, with a monster face! W-with a tongue sticking out and fiery eyes and everything!
The bitch even had the nerve to take the time and effort to cut a neat rectangle paper out to attach to the bottom of the drawing, labeling my name on it. You know. Just in case I had trouble identifying the subject of the artwork, of course.
My mom found it first, actually. She took one look at it and sternly crumpled the paper up. By the time I had seen it, I was staring at my crumpled self from the eyes of a 6-year-old schoolmate. Jesus...I knew I should have held off on asking my mom to buy me those light pink cowgirl boots.
To be quite honest, I wasn't too mad. I was a bit confused because I was trying to figure out if that meant I wasn't going to get anymore pan dulce. But my family's move out to a different neighborhood, schools and schools away, had answered my question for me. I wasn't hurt. But I could never to this day figure out why she did that. I'd be lying if I told you that pan dulce tasted just as good after that time in my life.
That one time in my life.
We never know how we affect the world around us, and we probably never will.
But this one time in my life I befriended my next door neighbor, whose name was Stephanie. She was in a different class than I was, but we were in the same grade. We would carpool together, and our mothers would upkeep light conversation for us. I would ask her where she got those Mexican watermelon-shaped lollipops, those Vero Rebanaditas Paletas. And we would both make some homemade pan dulce. Other times, she would stop by for some awkward play time at my place with my messy-haired Ariel doll.
And one day, out of nowhere, she left a cartoon drawing of me on our welcome mat. On some wide-ruled paper, torn sloppily and half-assed from the spiral-bound notebook, was a marker and crayon duo manifestation of me. Me, with a monster face! W-with a tongue sticking out and fiery eyes and everything!
The bitch even had the nerve to take the time and effort to cut a neat rectangle paper out to attach to the bottom of the drawing, labeling my name on it. You know. Just in case I had trouble identifying the subject of the artwork, of course.
My mom found it first, actually. She took one look at it and sternly crumpled the paper up. By the time I had seen it, I was staring at my crumpled self from the eyes of a 6-year-old schoolmate. Jesus...I knew I should have held off on asking my mom to buy me those light pink cowgirl boots.
To be quite honest, I wasn't too mad. I was a bit confused because I was trying to figure out if that meant I wasn't going to get anymore pan dulce. But my family's move out to a different neighborhood, schools and schools away, had answered my question for me. I wasn't hurt. But I could never to this day figure out why she did that. I'd be lying if I told you that pan dulce tasted just as good after that time in my life.
That one time in my life.
We never know how we affect the world around us, and we probably never will.
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