Mami was a good girl from Los Naranjos in the Dominican Republic. She was the second of nine children, which means my abuela and abuelo were very, uh, loving. Being second in command, Mami had many responsibilities growing up, including wiping baby butts, pelando platanos and washing pounds of clothes in los rios. Then, Mami met Papi.
As the story goes, he zoomed past her on his motorcycle and was immediately smitten by the young
woman who sat on the porch. Her father (my grandfather) was against the union from the start. My
father was an arrogant bad boy, claiming, “Esa mujer va ser mia!” just like a line from a telenovela.
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