enano-nanoo

"shazbot! i'll never marry you because you're not [burp] catholic..."

after i moved to the city, i dated this little drunky irish guy who's name, when said very fast, sounds a little like "nanoo-nanoo", as in the trademark greeting of mork & mindy's mork. nanoo-nanoo is now the name my sisters and i use when referring to him. you see, he was short, with a big mardi gras head, a barrel-shaped torso, and little limbs. he would toss back a few too many and just be one of these mean, grimacing drunks, like an evil leprechaun.

just how irascible was this troll? i went to some cheesy, crowded lincoln park bar with him one night [well, almost every weekend, but i digress]. at some point, some big redfaced porkchop head was pawing at me, mumbling something about "sauce". nanoo-nanoo, noting his size, cowered by my side to grab my hand and whisk me home. by the time we arrived, he had sufficiently worked himself into a lather, stomping his little rumplestilskin feet and fuming that it was my fault because i was "dressed like i was ready for action." after all, i was wearing my most revealing turtleneck and my fuck-me khakis. tsk! shameless harlot.

now that he's long gone, my family asks, "wasn't he, like, part midget or something? like a dwarf?" he was a twin, i reasoned. besides, you can't be part midget like you can be part german.

today, i asked ana, our nanny, about
a cute little song she sings to otto. it goes something like:

un enanito
tire un bolita
¿donde fuera caer?

i knew it was about something throwing a ball and wondering where it went. an enanito, i also concluded, is a smaller enano. what's an enano? i asked her...

a dwarf.