“Recógeme eso! ¡Ponte a limpiar coño! ¡Muchacha de mierda! ¡Levántate! ¡Ahora! ¿Y porque tu no estás? ¡Tu amas a tus amigos mas que a mi! ¡Si te tengo que decir otra ves! Me duele la espalda. Hazme un té.”
Of all the things I remember about my childhood, one distinct recurring memory I have is my mother’s nagging. This is not uncommon to most of the Latinos I know: a barrage of commands and complaints ranging from a household chore to body discomforts to angry outbursts over something. We waved them away or got up and did what was needed, rolling our eyes and feeling annoyed that the woman kept repeating herself constantly. It wasn’t until I went to therapy one morning and la cantaleta came up in conversation that I realized why this was a part of my life.