The Story of a Noodlehead, Puerto Rican Folktale

Between two Americas, there are many islands called Caribbean. Our story takes us to the island of Puerto Rico. Many years ago, on this island, there was a boy named Juan. He lived with his mother in a small cottage up on a hill.

One day, while the mother was making chicken and rice stew, she realized that her pot wasn’t big enough to mix the chicken and the rice together. So she said to her son “Why don’t you go to your grandmother to fetch the biggest pot she had.”

Juan rushed up the hill to his grandmother. He was catching his breath at his grandma’s place. “Grandma, mom is making my favorite meal and she needs the biggest pot you have” said the boy. She gladly handed him the pot.

The pot was made from iron, which made it heavy. The boy situated the pot on his shoulder, but it didn’t take long, when his shoulder started aching. He put the pot down to rest a bit. While resting, he noticed that the pot had three legs. The boy thought to himself “I have only two legs, why should I carry the pot if it has three legs.” So he spoke up “You know what pot, you can use your own legs. Why don’t we race down the hill to my house.”

They boy rushed down the hill without looking back. He burst into the house asking his mom “Did the pot beat me?” His mother not having time for such foolishness asked Juan “How the pot could beat you if it doesn’t have legs? It can’t walk on its own. You have to bring it here.”

Juan went back up the hill and of course the pot was exactly where he left it. He got angry at the pot. “You are the laziest pot ever” said the boy “I’m giving you the last chance.” But when the pot didn’t move an inch, the boy got even angrier and kicked it. It rolled down the hill and the boy yelled “I’m glad you came to your senses.”

The next day, the mother asked Juan to take the pot back to his grandma. The boy asked the pot to walk up the hill. But the pot didn’t move an inch. The boy got angry again, and then he said “OK, you did a great job with dinner last night. So I’ll give you a break.” He carried the heavy pot up the hill. When he put it down, he pointed a finger at the pot and warned it “Don’t expect the same treatment next time.”