Eric and I never got the chance to continue our talk that afternoon. We were constantly bombarded by other family members and guests, and then a pi?ata was brought out for the kids. Gary designated Eric as the official pi?ata hanger, claiming he was young and nimble enough for the job. He reluctantly agreed to do his brother’s “dirty work.” I watched with admiration and a little envy as he quickly climbed the huge elm tree in the yard and secured the colorful papier m?ché donkey to one of its low-hanging branches. When the job was done, I was waiting for Eric at the bottom of the tree.
“Nice work,” I told him as he jumped to the ground.
“Thank you,” he said with a smile. “I have a whole host of hidden talents.”
“I’m sure you do.”