The farce of my blacksmith grandpa secretly carrying me off went on for nearly three days, until Grandma found me after coming home from the hospital. She said I’d been drinking goat’s milk for three days straight and smelled like a goat. Grandpa’s tour of the village to show me off was still not over. There were 280 households in all, and after three days I’d visited fewer than 200 of them in Grandpa’s arms. Grandma had a huge argument with Grandpa, picked me up, and took me back to the hospital. Everyone had been frantic with worry as they searched for me. Grandpa had been so overjoyed by my birth that he’d lost his head, and somehow no one remembered the day I was born, not even my mother.
