El momento de la verdad

Ya desde la cuna se veía venir mi problema. Mi madre me decía: ¿Por qué no sales a ver si encuentras con quién desfogarte? ¡Seguro que llorabas menos y me dejabas dormir!
Ya con apenas dos años desoía los consejos maternos.
Llegó el colegio.
¿Qué? ¿Has hecho algo en el patio? ¿Alguna niña? ¿Un amiguito? ¿Una maestra? ¿El director de la escuela? ¡Aunque sea un perro, por Dios, que te vas a morir virgen! Pues a la cama sin cenar, si te toqueteas hablamos...
Desesperaba porque llegara la mili, para volver a cenar. Quedé exento por corto de talla.
Treinta y nueve años tenía el día que me vi orinando sólo en el mundo. Su último aliento lo gastó animándome a que hiciera algo con mi vida, la pobre murió con lo mío en la mano. Yo no me la había tocado nunca, ella se encargaba de sacudírmela después de mear seis veces al día, siete el día del padre. (Entre semana, venía cuatro veces por jornada a la oficina).
Terminada de enterrar descargué sobre su tumba; llamadme romántico si queréis, pero lo que buscaba era que mi madre saliera de allí para ayudarme. Como no dijo esta mano es mía, solicité el auxilio del párroco que había oficiado el responso. Negándomelo este, me acerqué al sepelio adyacente y a otros cuatro colindantes sin que nadie tuviese para con mi persona el mínimo gesto que la caridad exige.
Al imaginarme desenterrando a mi madre para abofetearla, ocurrió. Era la primera vez que experimentaba el fenómeno anatómico forense.
Y allí mismo vinieron a posárseme dos cotorras argentinas despistadas que se dedicaron a darse el pico mientras comentaban el último partido del Boca Juniors. Aquellas diecisiete horas de parloteo lunfardo me decidieron a liarme la manta a la cabeza y darme al libertinaje y la ventriloquia.
"PAPA WAS A ROLLING STONE". The Temptations

It was the third of September.
That day I'll always remember, yes I will.
'Cause that was the day that my daddy died.
I never got a chance to see him.
Never heard nothing but bad things about him.
Mama, I'm depending on you to tell me the truth.

And Mama just hung her head and said,
"Son, Papa was a rolling stone.
Wherever he laid his hat was his home.
(And when he died) All he left us was ALONE."
"Papa was a rolling stone, my son.
Wherever he laid his hat was his home.
(And when he died) All he left us was ALONE."

Well, well.

Hey Mama, is it true what they say,
that Papa never worked a day in his life?
And Mama, some bad talk going around town
saying that Papa had three outside children and another wife.
And that ain't right.
Hey, talk about Papa doing some store front preaching.
Talked about saving souls and all the time leeching.
Dealing in debt and stealing in the name of the Lord.

Mama just hung her head and said,
"Papa was a rolling stone, my son.
Wherever he laid his hat was his home.
(And when he died) All he left us was ALONE."
"Hey, Papa was a rolling stone.
Wherever he laid his hat was his home.
(And when he died) All he left us was ALONE."

Uh!

Hey Mama, I heard Papa called himself a jack of all trades.
Tell me is that what sent Papa to an early grave?
Folks say Papa would beg, borrow, steal to pay his bills.
Hey Mama, folks say that Papa was never much on thinking.
Spent most of his time chasing women and drinking.
Mama, I'm depending on you to tell me the truth.

And Mama looked up with a tear in her eye and said,
"Son, Papa was a rolling stone. (Well, well, well, well)
Wherever he laid his hat was his home.
(And when he died) All he left us was ALONE."
"Papa was a rolling stone.
Wherever he laid his hat was his home.
(And when he died) All he left us was ALONE."

"I said, Papa was a rolling stone. Wherever he laid his hat was his home.
(And when he died) All he left us was ALONE."