I am constantly surprised at how layered and complex my boys can be, to discover a side of them we don't even know is within is weird, funny, and a little alarming. Yesterday, we went to visit my folks again on a Friday, Wife came and picked us up and we spent the day in Crystal City while she worked. All was fine, we mostly stay at my mom's, I don't like venturing out back home, the idea of meeting someone I am supposed to know and not have any idea who they are is not fun for me.
Towards the end of our day, I made a little joke about my mom's Christmas decorations, she had a baby Jesus that looked like a white baby (pink cheeks and blue eyes) sitting in a manger with the other characters standing around. I said that Baby Jesus seriously needs to be browner, people in the middle east aren't white and blue eyed, sorry mom. I was being a smart-ass, but the kids got the idea to go to the store and buy some paint to darken him up somehow. This was all happening about an hour before Wife was getting ready to be let loose from work, so I was more interested in getting going but the grandkids all got Grandma going and they headed out to the Family Dollar to buy some paint and get out of the house, I guess.
Baby A comes back twenty minutes later all wound up that some weirdo opened his glass soda bottle while talking to him in Spanish. Crystal has a couple of "slow" people that roam the streets and this one in particular has always known my dad and approaches the family. I never cared for the guy and he is probably the reason I hate the homeless so much, my brother would always tell him to fuck off, but there he was, my son not knowing anything about this guy but the guy said hi to my mom so Baby A let his guard down a little. He then noticed he came way to close into his personal space, but let it go. He did not let it go that he was hovering around my niece a little too close for comfort, so he looked for a weapon as fast as he could, in case things took a turn and the Fanta bottle was the best he could do. He grabbed the bottle pretending like he wanted to drink a soda, he prefers tea or even water normally, but the glass bottle would make a nice hammer if shit went down, he said. He said he was also not comfortable with how close he was to his other smaller cousins. He did figure the guy was slow, but he wasn't going to let that be an excuse. I love this about Mijo. He does not seem like a big intimidating force, he is still a baby faced teen, but he packs his 230 pounds well and he is a beast of a boy who isn't afraid to tangle. I was never aggressive to the point of wanting to fight, my son though stands tall and is always ready to defend, I don't know where he gets this from, must be mama, she too is a little nuts in this way.
Ultimately, Grandma paid at the store, Baby A stood by her side, the other grandkids were all in a group by the door, at a distance from the weird guy, but Baby A still had the bottle of red Fanta, might as well take it he thought. The guy told him something in Spanish, Mijo didn't understand what he said, but before he knew what had happened, ole Petey (the weird guy's name) had managed to open the Fanta while in my son's hand. He was both pissed and thankful at the same time. He kind of realized the man is harmless and slow, he didn't know how he was going to open the glass bottle, but he wasn't sure he liked Petey up in his space.
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