Mia: Shaken Not Stirred

The true life stories of a NYC female.

Saturday, August 02, 2008

El Cuco :Michael Jackson

Say "El cuco is coming",and little Hispanic eyes open wide in fear, little heads jerk around looking for but afraid to see the legendary figure. El cuco is the stuff nightmares are made of. No one's actually ever seen him but we know he exists. He lives under the bed,in closets and lurks in the corners of dark rooms waiting to snatch disobedient children away into a dark abyss. El cuco, words that strike mortal fear into a normal kid's heart but 8 yr old Robert is not an ordinary kid. Robert is a demon spawn striking fear in the hearts of teachers and baby sitters all over New York. El cuco is nada to Robert. The only thing Robert fears in this world is Michael Jackson.

The little guy’s room looked like it had been struck by a tornado and he refused to clean it up. No matter how much his mom begged and pleaded the kid was not having it. Finally at her wit’s end she invoked the name of Michael Jackson. “Robert do you want to go to The Never Never Land Ranch, do you want to go play with Michael Jackson’s monkey? Do you huh?” she said as she stood in the center of his room. “No mommy nooooo! The little boy cried out with a look of sheer terror on his face. “I swear to God Robert if you don’t clean up this room I am calling Michael Jackson!”she screeched. The woman was stressed out. “No mommy, please don’t call Michael Jackson!” His mom whipped out her cell phone and started punching in numbers. Robert ran up to her and threw himself at her hugging her legs “I’ll clean it mommy I promise!” She snapped the lid shut on her phone and stared at him. “Okay Robert but I want this room cleaned right now.Ahora mismo.” “Okay mommy.” He said as he went around the room picking his scattered toys and clothes.

She sat on his messy bed and surveyed the room she had cleaned that very morning.She glanced at her watch, "Hmm not bad it lasted 3 hours, usually it's destroyed an hour later." She picked up a headless action figure that was lying on the bed and studied it. “You know Robert if you like taking apart your toys I can get you a Mr. Potato Head and you can pop his nose on and off just like Michael Jackson does with his.” “No!”

His once tidy bed had chocolate well at least she hoped it was chocolate smeared all over the comforter and sheets. She got up and began to strip the bedding watching her son out of the corner of her eye. “Robert if you keep on making messes like this on your bed I’m going to buy you Michael Jackson bed sheets. “ Noooo!” she nodded her head and sniffed at the comforter, “Thank God it’s just chocolate.” “What if it had been poo?” my sister asked. Robert’s mom shrugged her shoulders “Wouldn’t be the first time” and stuffed the bedding into a laundry bag. “ I don’t want a Michael Jackson bed mommy.” “Well if you keep this up I’m going to buy you Michael Jackson curtains, bedspread,and sheets and make you sleep on them. I know a store that sells them too.” “I’m sorry mommy I won’t do it again.”

By the evening there was a new battle raging it was bath time. Robert refused to bathe. His mom tried to coax him into the tub filled with enough Mr.Bubble to make a bubble aficionado delirious. He didn’t mind the smell of hot city sidewalk wafting from his body. He didn’t mind the legs streaked with dirt, the dirty face or the fact that he had accumulated so much dirt under his fingernails that he could successfully grow a crop of potatoes there. He relished his dirt and funk he wore it like a badge of honor. He whined and protested. " I don't wannna bath!" He pulled the stopper out of the tub as soon as she sat him in it.“Robert!" As the tub began to drain his mom bit out a few curses under her breath. Most of them involved something about having her tubes tied. "That’s it I’m calling Michael Jackson! He’s going to make you drink Jesus juice!” she said as she pulled him to his feet. “No, no, no! Mommy please!” She held him against her chest as she turned on the shower and tested the water with her hand. “Mommy?” “Shhh Robert I’m trying to decide.” He grabbed his wash cloth, bar of soap and stepped into the stream of water as his mother watched him. “Fine I’m not going to call him. Make sure you use the soap Robert. Call me as soon as you’re done.Okay?” “Okay.”

Several minutes later she peeked into the bathroom only to find Robert still as dirty as when she left him. He was busy smearing lather all over the wall with his wash cloth. She slowly entered the bathroom and yelled out Michael Jackson’s signature “hee hee heee” as she snatched open the shower curtain. The kid jumped up and yelled, “Ahh! Michael Jackson!”and covered his face dropping the soap and his wash cloth. "Robert?" He uncovered his eyes and looked up relieved to see his mother glaring at him instead of the king of pop. “Use the damn soap Robert.” his mother said through gritted teeth and she pulled the cell phone out of the case attached to her jeans. “I am!” she looked at him arching her eyebrows and slowly flipped open her cell phone. “I will mommy I will! Look!” and he began soaping up his body. His mom closed the toilet seat lid and sat there fingers poised over the dial pad not giving voice to the threat that was perched on the tip of her tongue. Robert gulped. “Mommy could you pass me the shampoo? I’m going to wash my hair too.” She placed the phone on the edge of the sink and without a word squeezed some shampoo into her hand and began washing his hair.

Who knew that the once adorable Michael Jackson would grow up to become "el cuco" of this century?

Labels: ,

Posted by @ 8:38 PM
7 comment from: Blogger Mia, Anonymous Darla, Blogger Tapsalteerie, Blogger Ritardo "Gar the Conqueror", Anonymous frum, Blogger Ritardo "Gar the Conqueror", Blogger Mia,