When Canutito walked into the kitchen esa mañana de verano, Grama Cuca was at the breakfast table tearing up una funda de almohada into strips.

"Why are you tearing that pillow case into strips grama?" Canutito asked rubbing his ojos.

"Tu primita Prudencia is going to be making su primera comunión and her mother asked me que le hiciera rizos."

"Rizos," Grama Cuca began, "are long curls that hang down the side of a girl's cabeza. What I have to do es de pin la garra de the top of her head y luego hago wind su cabello largo around it. Después I take el overhang de la garra and wind it over el cabello and tie it on top. I let los chinos dry ansina overnight y luego el otro día I pull the garras out of her hair toda carefully y hopefully los curls will hold."

"Parece como que it is a whole lot of trouble," Canutito muttered to himself. Pero de repente he got all distracted when he noticed que Grampo Caralampio was adjusting the towel just so en el wooden towel rack. The towel rack was made en la forma de una fish. Grampo Caralampio had made it himself allá en la Escuela de los Veteranos. He draped la toalla over and over it again hasta que it hung just right. Then he sat down at the table a comer su otemíl. Before he dug into his oatmeal though, he removed the spoon and got another one. He didn't like to eat con la stainless steel cuchara that was made in Japan. He used to refer to it as 'la Japana'. Instead he took an old silver cuchara del cajoncito and put it exactly two inches from his bowl. Canutito just observed him de una distancia.

"Uh grampo," he began, "por qué are you adjusting la toalla and trading la cuchara that you use to eat your otemíl?" he asked.

"Ay m'hijo," Grampo Caralampio remarked, "es porque I don't want it to rain today."

"And just how," began Canutito, "is adjusting the towel on the trucha rack and putting a 'la Japana' back into the drawer going to help it not to rain?"

"Ay, m'hijo," Grampo Caralampio retorted, "ever since que I was all chiquito I have always thought que si if I do certain things a certain way every time, bad things won't happen como it won't rain o I'll find my missing borregas."

"I didn't know que you were superstitious, grampo," Canutito remarked.

"Haven't you ever done cosas like that?" Grampo Caralampio questioned him.

"No not really," the little boy remarked. "I thought que we just had to have fe en Dios and everything would turn out for the best."

"Sí, m'hijo, that's right," Grampo Caralampio said, "pero también a veces it is best not to tentar el destino. A veces I even jump over los cracks en el sidewalk or throw salt over mis shoulders pa' que le caiga al Devil in the eyes."

"Oh, just knock off todas esas tonterías!" Grama Cuca shrieked as she led little Prudencia into the room. She wet the muchachita's hair with water from la bandejita and ran a peine through it. She quickly curled the wet cabello around the garras and then wrapped the garras around the cabello.

When she had made about nine or 10 rizos around the girl's head, Grampo Caralampio looked up from his bowl of otemíl and he said, "Parecen those rizos just like colitas de borreguitos."

The little girl started to cry thinking que she was going to be teased about having lambs' tails wrapped around her head. Suddenly she tore out of la cocina llorando que she she didn't want colitas de borreguitos to make her hair pretty.

Grama Cuca just looked at Grampo Caralampio angrily. "¡Ves!" she screamed at him. "A causa tuya Prudencia is not going to look good pa' su primera comunión. I hope it rains toda la tarde as a punishment for what you said to her!"

Canutito looked outside the window donde he could see unas nubes starting to gather over the horizon ...

¿Le gustaría compartir sus propias anécdotas o comentar con Torres sobre esta columna? Envíele un correo electrónico a lartor@unm.edu.