There was a cute little eight year girl over at our house today - the daughter of one of the construction workers who's working on our house. She had that look on her face that said "come play with me," but I was on my way out, so my mom decided to entertain her (sort of). She sat in the kitchen while my mom was cleaning out one of our cabinets full of plastic bags. I think my mom felt a little sorry for her because she had no one to talk with or play with and my mom didn't really think it was safe for her to be hanging around her dad while he was sawing and hammering away. When I came back home, they had already left and my mom told me about the eight year girl and the conversation she had with her. She has two other siblings, both younger - the youngest, a one year old brother, and they weren't with her today because they were out with their mom who was shopping for things to bring back to Mexico. They were going to leave for Mexico this afternoon. She wasn't with them because she didn't want to go to Mexico and wanted to hang out with her dad. She spoke about two older brothers whom she hadn't seen for years, and according to my mom, she made it sound like they were from a previous marriage because she had said she was the oldest child in her family. It was cute how my mom talked about her, but I could sense the slight sadness she felt for the little girl, ending with "How could her dad bring her to work with him, especially when he's doing construction? But I gave her that little toy that's been sitting there so she could take it home," and she chuckled. Two people, my mom - chinese and in her sixties, and a little hispanic eight year old girl, bonded and shared stories with each other this afternoon at my house...strange...but endearing.
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