Mi Madre: Part III, Me and Mi Madre
Miracle Bra For My Behind

Miracle Bra For My Behind
I call my mother up one morning and say, Hola! Que tal? Bien! Y tu? You are my Nina Bonita. My Nina Locita Bonita, she plays. Do you want an ass mi Nina Bonita? I buy you jeans that work like a Miracle Bra for your behind. No thanks, Ma. She knows I can’t fill skirts because my ass is Chinita flat, not Latina round like hers she says. She insists, this way when you fall down you won’t hurt yourself. You have some cushion. Tu entiendes mi Nina Bonita? Pero, be careful because on Cristina’s talk show on Telemundo, they had this one girl who got behind surgery but one part of her behind still droops. Now she walks around with one sagging behind while the other one is high and gordita. Surgery is dangerous. Don’t worry, I buy one for you. I make sure the price is special. Gracias mi Madre. But, no thanks.

DJ Mi Madre
Mi Nina Bonita, you know where your name comes from? You ever hear of Chino y Nacho? No, I say. You need to read more. They’re famous. Everybody knows Chino y Nacho. They sing reggaeton. You’ll like it. I send to you manana. The next day I receive a link to a music video by Chino y Nacho called, “Mi Nina Bonita.”
Mi Madre became an iPad addict pretty quick. Searching YouTube videos of her favorite musicians like Whitney Houston, John Denver, Celine Dion, and her latest discovery, Chino y Nacho. She used to write me letters on looseleaf filled with Spanish proverbs like “las paredes oyen” which means the walls have ears. It was when she thought I should be more discreet about my affairs. Another was “no hay rosa sin espinas” which translates to there exists no rose without thorns. It’s when she wanted me to understand that all happiness comes with some pain, not everything in life was going to be perfect. Today, she sends me her messages through YouTube songs. Like Chino y Nacho’s song, “Mi Nina Bonita.” It was to tell me where my new name came from.

Goya
I remember going to C-town in the Lower East Side with mi Madre. We would always be in the Goya section buying red kidney beans, instant flan mix, rice, sazon seasoning, and malta drinks. All the sales girls were Latina and couldn’t understand why I was calling her mi Madre, Ma. But her face looks Chinita they would say to each other in Spanish. I liked it. Confusing people everywhere we went.

What’s Cookin’?
Ma, what’s cookin’?
Nasty’s mail! People read garbage these days. Or haven’t you heard? Don’t be stupida!
Yes, she was cooking my father’s (who she lovingly named “Nasty”) discarded mail along with mine in a pot filled with boiling water until it turned to mush. She didn’t trust shredders and came up with this innovative idea all on her own.
Haven’t you ever heard of identity theft? You have to read the news mi Nina Bonita she’d say.
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“Booty Pop” was first published on Raising Mothers