Hi there, good afternoon. I want to share a story that happened to me recently. I’m not sure if it’s funny, sad, or just something I felt like sharing with you.
One day, my brother-in-law, my wife, and I went to an anime convention. My brother-in-law is a huge fan of these events, and we decided to tag along… although I was mostly there out of curiosity (and for the food, to be honest). At one of the booths, there was a prize wheel. You’d pay a small fee to spin the wheel and could win posters, stickers, toys, manga, and other fun stuff. My goal was clear: win a One Punch Man manga.
I tried several times, but the manga never showed up. Instead, I won a few small prizes, including a Grogu keychain. My mom always calls him Baby Yoda because, well, it’s easier, and everyone knows who you’re talking about.
As a Star Wars fan, I didn’t think twice and made it my new keychain. It was perfect. It went with me everywhere, hanging from my keys like a tiny intergalactic guardian.
A few weeks later, we went to visit my mom. Everything was normal: laughter, food, and stories from the week. But at one point, my mom noticed the Grogu keychain dangling from my keys. Her eyes lit up, and she said:
—“What a cute Baby Yoda!”
—“Do you like it, Mom?”
—“I love it!”
And that’s when I gave in. Without thinking much, I said:
—“Take it, Mom. It’s yours.”
She took it with a huge smile, while I watched Baby Yoda leave my life. I swear, before she put it in her bag, the keychain looked at me with those tiny painted eyes, as if it were saying: “Don’t leave me, please.”
Hola, buenas tardes. Quiero contarles una historia que me pasó hace poco. No sé si es graciosa, triste o simplemente algo que tenía que compartir con ustedes.
Resulta que un día, mi cuñado, mi esposa y yo fuimos a una convención de anime. Mi cuñado es súper fan de estos eventos, y nosotros lo acompañamos… aunque yo iba más por curiosidad (y la comida, no les voy a mentir). En uno de los stands había una ruleta de premios. Pagabas una moneda y podías ganar pósters, stickers, juguetes, mangas y otras cosas. Mi objetivo era claro: ganar un manga de One Punch Man.
Intenté varias veces, pero el manga nunca salió. En su lugar, me llevé algunos premios pequeños, y entre ellos estaba un llavero de Grogu, aunque mi mamá siempre lo llama Baby Yoda porque, bueno, es más fácil y todos saben de quién hablas.
Como fan de Star Wars, no lo pensé dos veces y lo adopté como mi nuevo llavero. Era perfecto. Me acompañaba a todos lados, colgando de mis llaves como un pequeño guardián intergaláctico.
Unas semanas después, fuimos a visitar a mi mamá. Todo iba normal: risas, comida, historias de la semana. Pero en un momento, mi mamá vio el llavero y quedó fascinada.
—¡Qué bonito tu Baby Yoda! —me dijo emocionada.
—¿Le gusta, mamá?
—¡Me encanta!
Y ahí fue donde flaqueé. Sin pensarlo mucho, le dije:
—Lléveselo, mamá. Es suyo.
Ella lo tomó con una sonrisa de oreja a oreja, mientras yo miraba cómo Baby Yoda se iba de mi vida. Juro que, antes de guardarlo en su bolso, el llavero me miró con esos ojitos tiernos, como si dijera: “No me dejes, por favor.”
)
A few weeks later, we visited her again. While chatting, I noticed something on the table. It was Grogu—or what was left of him. Baby Yoda was no longer Baby Yoda. Only the head remained. The ears and body were gone, and the paint was so worn out that his expression now looked like a silent lament.
Pasaron unas semanas y volvimos a visitarla. Mientras charlábamos, vi el llavero en la mesa… o lo que quedaba de él. Baby Yoda ya no era Baby Yoda. Solo quedaba la cabeza. Las orejas y el cuerpo habían desaparecido, y el desgaste en la pintura hacía que su expresión ahora pareciera más bien un lamento silencioso.
)
—“Mom, what happened to the keychain?” I asked, feeling a mix of disbelief and amusement.
—“Oh, son, those things don’t last long,” she replied, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
And there it was. Baby Yoda’s head still hung from her keys, as if it were reproaching me from beyond: “I told you not to leave me.”
I’m not entirely sure how to feel about this. Maybe it’s funny, maybe it’s sad… but in the end, I decided to share it with you so you can draw your own conclusions.
—Mamá, ¿qué pasó con el llavero? —le pregunté, sintiendo una mezcla de incredulidad y risa.
—Ay, hijo, esas cosas no duran nada —me respondió, como si fuera lo más normal del mundo.
Ahí estaba. La cabeza de Baby Yoda seguía colgando de las llaves, como si me reprochara desde el más allá: “Te dije que no me dejaras.”
No sé exactamente cómo sentirme al respecto. Tal vez sea gracioso, tal vez sea triste… pero al final decidí contárselos para que ustedes saquen sus propias conclusiones.
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