‘Los zorrillos’ smell ‘como’ fresh-brewed coffee
Una noche after dinner, grampo, grama y Canutito were all sitting around the kitchen table platicando. It was a nice night and so they had las ventanas abiertas, inviting in el aire de la noche. As they conversed, Grama Cuca jumped up de repente. She rushed to the windows and began to shut them a todo mariachi.
Grampo Caralampio and Canutito looked at each other todos asustãos. Grama had surprised them cuando brincó suddenly.
“¿Por qué estás cerrado las ventanas, Cuca?” grampo asked her.
“Can’t you smell it, viejo?” Grama Cuca asked him. “There’s a skunk outside.
“Yo no huelo a ningún zorrillo, Cuca,” grampo said. “Usually the smell of a skunk es muy fuerte and you can smell el tufo por miles and miles.”
“I think I’ll go outside,” Canutito said, todo sneaky.
“Don’t you dare, m’hijo!” Grama Cuca warned. “All I need is for you to come back pa’dentro la casa smelling como un zorrillo.”
“Oh let him, Cuca,” grampo snickered. “I’m sure que if he goes pa’fuera to the porch, no va a durar too long outside.”
“I can hardly wait!” Canutito said. “A mí sí me gusta el olor de los skunks. Los zorrillos look nice of cute con sus white stripes going down sus espinazos surrounded por todo ese pelo negro.”
“Los zorrillos no son nada chulos, m’hijo.” Grama Cuca said. “Los rayones blancos going down their backs surrounded con black fur, makes them look bien creepy. And what do you mean, that you like the smell of skunks, m’hijo?” she added. “How can anyone like el tufo de los zorrillos?”
“Think about it, grama,” Canutito said. “The smell of skunks always reminds me de la aroma de fresh-brewed coffee.”
“Do you really think que el tufo de los zorrillos smells como café fresco, m’hijo?” Grampo Caralampio teased him.
“Sí, grampo,” Canutito replied. “Even when I was little I used to like el olor. I would sneak over to the cookie bowl que estaba en el trastero and I would pick out a couple of biscochitos and I would imagine que I was dunking them into a cup de café fresco as they dissolved in skunk water.”
“That is so gross!” Grama Cuca exclaimed. “How can anyone think que pueden hacer dunk aun biscochito en una copa de agua de zorrillo? When I think about it, se me revuelve el estómago; my stomach gets todo queasy.”
By that time, Canutito had finished putting on his sweater. He wrapped himself en su suera anticipating going out pa’l portal pero primero he sauntered over pa’l trastero and put unos dos biscochitos en su bolsa.
Grampo and grama watched the little boy por detrás de las cortinas de las ventanas en la cocina. As they hid behind the curtains of the kitchen windows they could keep an eye en el niño. Grama Cuca was worried, temiendo que the skunk might smell the biscochitos that Canutito was eating and come looking por algo para comer.
De vez en cuando they saw something running under the bushes junto el cerco pero nomás era un gato negro en brama. They figured que the black cat in heat hiding under the bushes by the fence had scared away al zorrillo.
Canutito just sat en la silleta mecedora rocking back and forth, smelling the odor of skunk and eating sus biscochitos.
“I guess que it takes all kinds to make the world go ’round,” grampo said.
“All I want es que el Canutito esté contendo and safe, Grama Cuca said.
When Canutito came back into the house, estaba más contento que qué…