Very shortly I need to prepare for the return trip home after living in Albuquerque these past three days.
This adoption journey has been the most incredible, by far – in fact, they have been utterly magical! The people – the foster family and the treatment center folks – are outstanding, loving, caring, and impressive!
Quintin is MY son. These three days together were not about getting to know one another. They simply seemed like: OK, here we all are together as a family, and… we’re off!
And, Jose and Quintin are even more bonded as brothers.
Jose made the trip so much more memorable. And of course, his humor had me howling. I always joked that Jose was more like my younger brother,  Destin, and on this trip, he was his uncle all over! Jose’s witty deliveries, and even some of his mannerisms, were distinctly Uncle Destin!
What is so neat, even almost hilarious is that I have a Hispanic son and a Native Indian son, and neither know much about their own culture, nor do they really seem to invest much interest at this point. Jose cannot speak ANY Spanish, and Mexican food does not sit well with his stomach. Quintin just shrugs his shoulders when I asked him any questions about his heritage.
On this trip, Jose kept me rolling, howling, wiping away tears, and continually enjoying the moments even more.
While in Walmart Thursday night, I asked Jose if he would please go get a basket. He looked over at Quintin, snapped his finger, and said, “Hey! New Guy!”
Saturday morning, as we were getting in the car, he asked Quintin, “Hey, Kitten- you want shot gun, or in the back?” And from then on, Quintin was “Kitten” to Jose. “Hey, Kitten, can you pass the mustard…” or anything – it’s hilarious.
As we were walking through Old Town Albuquerque, Quintin began a slight cough/choke/throat clearing that lasted several seconds. Jose looked at him and asked, “What the hell is this? Some of your Indian talk?”
I nearly fell down laughing in the middle of the street.
At the zoo, there were large letters going into the bird cage – PULL. Quintin started to push. Jose stopped him, and said, “Now, one day, Kitten, when you learn to read English you will see that this means PULLLLL.”
Quintin will smile, nod, and then at the moment when Jose is not expecting anything, Quintin will zing him – hard and fast!
Quintin was talking about arrowheads, and how he would like to one day learn how to shoot a bow and arrow – it was actually the only Indian thing he really said the entire time. I told him we could do that but to remember he must never aim at The White Man. Without a beat, looked at Jose and said, “Well of course I know I am only to shoot moving Mexicans.”
Jose kept walking, and shaking his head.
At the zoo, we were walking across this 12′ swinging bridge to a monkey exhibit. As we prepared to cross, I motioned for Quintin to step in front of me to cross. He got this smart-ass grin and twinkle in his eye, and said, “No way! I saw how the bridge began to sink the first time you crossed it.”
And from the other side came a familiar voice, laughing, “Good one, Kitten!”
My worst fear before meeting Quintin was that he would not have a sense of humor, or would not keep up with Jose and myself in this particular department.
How wrong I was!
OK… it is time to pack, shower, check out of the hotel at 11am; return the car at Noon; go through security shortly thereafter, and wait for the 3:45pm flight home.
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