Reply #40: Similar story [View All]

[sharonking21]

When I was about 5, we lived in Brownsville Texas. Often my parents, their friends, and my aunts and uncles would go across the border to the Matamoros Cafe, which had a large patio and a band. They often took me.

My Uncle Ed, my favorite, would always dance La Raspa with me and with no one else. I was wandering around the patio when the band struck up La Raspa. I ran over to Uncle Ed and pulled him out onto the dance floor and started dancing.

About a third of the way through, I looked up only to realize that it was not Uncle Ed--it was a bemused Mexican man who had a mustache like my uncle and who was someone I did not know. In great embarrassment and shame, I dropped the man's hands and ran off back to my family's table.

They thought it was cute and were laughing at me. Severely embarrassed, I didn't think it was cute at all, so I sank my teeth into Aunt Wilda's bare shoulder (the nearest tormentor to me)and chomped down hard and then started squalling. They had to take me home.

Aunt Wilda still speaks to me. She is 92 now. I go to see her in the nursing home about every 2-3 days. Uncle Ed died back in the 70s.