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The Cheating Chicano Husband

La Suegra and my dog named Vato

By Frank Solis
Published on LatinoLA: January 16, 2017


The Cheating Chicano Husband


I always knew that we Chicano men were devious but I never realized just how much. I must admit I have always been the weak-willed type as far as temptation goes, but these past holidays really brought out the worst in me.

I was busy petting my dog named Vato, right before Christmas, when I accidentally hosed down la suegra just as I was finishing watering the lawn. Good thing
I was leaving for work.

I heard her say as I was leaving, "¡Desgraciado, hijo de la chi…..! So I quickly drove off. But as I did, I heard her shout out to my wife, "I told you he was evil! How, can
I go to Mass all wet, and I wanted so much to show off my new Sunday dress to all my friends."

Needless to say, I'm glad I left the house rather quickly. Have you ever seen two angry Chicanas gang up on one innocent Chicano? Well, it's not pretty.

But now, here I was finally cruising, free at last. I was feasting my eyes upon every sinful sight I could see. Here I was, a happily married Chicano with two kids and a house with a one car garage, yet I was afraid because of my weakness that I was going to put it all at risk. But I couldn't help myself. My mind drifted, and I fantasized about forbidden desires. Oh, to what depths a man's depravity will take him.

No one saw me as I sneakily entered the joint. I just had to be extra careful because I was sure la suegra had spies everywhere, she had almost sixty-years experience controlling her son in laws, except for me of course, I was the one rock in her shoe.

All of a sudden, I could not contain my joy, as I had found the perfect place, I checked out the action, And sure enough it was hot! Several of them caught my eye right away and they looked so delicious and ready to go.

I then decided I was going to do this the right way. But who should walk through the door right then but Father Fidencio. "Hello, my son, I haven't seen you in Mass lately?" My lips trembled as he studied my eyes to see if he could catch me in a lie.

"Looking for sinners to rescue, eh, Father Fidencio?" I asked rather meekly. Luckily his phone rang and he headed quickly for the door. "I'll be looking for you at confession next Sunday and be sure and give your mother-in-law a big thank you for the pies she baked for the Jamaica. She's such a saint, I have never heard her say one bad word about anyone!" He said as he slammed the door behind him.

Whew, that was close, because I almost gagged upon hearing his praise for the sworn enemy of all husbands. I was now sure that la suegra had told him all about my sinful habits. Well, he was gone now, and no one was going to stop me, not even him! I hadn't gone to confession in ten years, but I was sure God would forgive me for what I was about to do.

After all, my wife and la suegra had driven me to this low point in my life. I then decided that this was going to be a complete orgy, and that I was going to enjoy every delicious moment of it. Now you know why there are so many divorces, if only mother-in-laws would keep their mouths shut, it would be a much better world.

The place was full and the cumbia music made the atmosphere vibrate with anticipation. So many sweaty bodies and all going for the same thing! So heaven help me, I took the plunge. "Deme tres taquitos de chorizo con huevo, dos de carne asada, y dos de machacado con bastante salsa verde." "Y para tomar, señor," asked
the waitress.

"Una taza de café por favor," I replied. Licking my lips at the mere thought of such ecstasy. She gave me a nod of approval, which I never got at home and I knew the five
dollar tip would keep her lips sealed. Still, I looked around worriedly as I left the Taqueria.

Now all I had to do was stop at the car wash and vacuum the car, to eliminate the crumbs and any evidence of my torrid, sinful, snacking habit, and I would be all set. My wife will never know what my suegra secretly suspects.

So, unless they call in an expert in food D.N.A. forensics, they are out of luck! Now, after I finish tossing the remaining leftovers to my dog named Vato only he will know and by the way, he's not talking!

Frank Solis Copyright 2017 All Rights Reserved

About Frank Solis:
Frank Solis is a Chicano writer and poet who works to promote edumacation among Mexican American youth.
Author's website




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