All the world's a (free) stage

It was September 5, 2014. A day had passed since my best friend Joemar decided to pack up his bags and move to a better, higher place. I promised his family I would buy some of the supplies we needed for the wake so as soon as I had some free time, I headed for SM Hypermarket, the most convenient option at the time. We had just a few hours to get the chapel ready.

Speed-shopping while in the depths of sadness was one of the more surreal things I've ever had to do in my life. I shed some tears in the aisle reserved for party items, deciding between smaller versus bigger (allegedly) biodegradable plates as though making the right choice would bring my friend back. After what seemed like a very long time staring at disposable cups and paper towels, I queued up to pay for the stuff that somehow ended up in my basket.

A smiley SM cashier started to ring up my items. She then asked me a question that seemed innocent enough:

"Do you have a free stage card?"

"A what?" I asked.

"A free stage card," she repeated.

A free stage card. A free stage card? Did I have a free stage card? What is a free stage card? Was I too sad to understand what a free stage card was? Did all those sleepless nights finally kill off my remaining neurons? Maybe I HAD a free stage card but had completely forgotten.

After a few long seconds of staring at the lady (who really just wanted to do her job well, I might add), I figured out that she was referring to this:

And at that moment, as I felt a small smile involuntarily forming on my lips, I had a feeling that things would be OK somehow.

Eventually. 

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PS. Joemar would've loved this story (and probably has that card).  

You can't handle the tooth

[To understand this anecdote, the only thing you need to know is that we live in Pasig, which suffered from an inexplicable mosquito deluge a few months ago. Also, there are many plants and trees in our garden and backyard, which might explain the number of insects that frequent our home despite the screens. So, to recap: our home = insect city. You may proceed.] 


When I saw Martina last week, she gave me the biggest toothy smile about 2 inches from my face. She didn't stop until I noticed that she had lost another one of her front teeth.

"Wow, Marteens! Did the tooth fairy visit?" I asked.

"Yes. I got 60 pesos ... but I really wanted 100."

"I don't think you should complain," I said, preachily. "When we were kids, we got zero pesos when we lost a tooth."

"WHAT!?!? THE TOOTH FAIRY NEVER VISITED YOU???"

"Never."

Then, after a longish pause and staring blankly for a minute, Martina excitedly said:

"I know why the tooth fairy never visited. Because she's afraid of mosquitos."

How to end a story

Practically speaking

The fateful day has arrived. Juancho has started to read my blog (hi Juanchy!). Ulp.

I warned him that there are a LOT of stories about him and Martina in here. He said, yes, he saw. He said the one about the 'wist' was funny.

Martina overheard and asked, 'What's a wist?' Then, to my surprise, Juancho proceeded to paraphrase the entire blog entry, including all my extra comments, which just goes to show that he deserves an award for reading comprehension. Paging Xavier (the school, not the Professor)!

After that 'wist' retelling, Juancho told Martina, 'Do you know that as of today, we are 5 years apart? I'm 12 now and you're still 7. Five years!'*

Martina: Yeah, PRACTICALLY.

Me: Wow! Big word. Good job.

Martina: I actually don't know what it means.

[laughter from everyone, loudest laugh from me]

And then ...

Juancho: You have to blog this!!!

Ergo, this.

The pressure to make more blog entries begins. Ulp #2.


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*They are just 4 years apart, but Juancho's birthday comes earlier in the year. 'Did I really have to explain that?' I ask myself.

Things that make me smile (and overweight)

My 11-year-old nephew Juancho and 7-year-old niece Martina seem to be on some kind of dessert theme recently. Maybe my love of sugar is rubbing off on them. (I never claimed to be the best influence on anyone.)

We had a family thing on Sunday so I saw the kids that night. After Juanch greeted me and gave me a kiss, he said I smelled like cookies.

'Is that good or bad?' I asked precariously.

'It was a compliment.'

'Oh thanks,' I said. 'What kind of cookies?' (Tag: Important questions in life)

'The ones you make.'

Which I guess meant I smelled of stress and shortening.

AKA coping mechanism

Last night was Martina's turn to amuse me. To try and fall asleep, she was looking at a cupcake book on my bed while I was working outside.

After leafing through some pages, she excitedly ran out the room and asked, 'Did you watch the Vegas episode of Modern Family?!'

(She didn't really say it exactly that way because she calls the TV show 'Modern and Family'. Please don't ask me to explain. I have nothing.)

'No, why?'

'I found a Vegas cupcake!!!'

She then ran back inside to get the book and show me the page. After a few seconds, I heard her shouting again from the bedroom.

'Forget it. It's not Vegas. It's VEGAN.'

Hahahaha.

I love these kids. (Tag: Bias)

Neck and neck

Apparently – and I was not aware of this until recently – Mama and Dad are in a prize-less race to accumulate the most bloopers within my lifetime.

I used to think Mama would be the clear winner (because of stories like this and this), but Dad is one competitive alpha male. Ergo, at present, it's pretty much [insert blog entry title here] [#laziness].

Yesterday, as we were leaving the relatively new Robinsons Magnolia, Mama happily observed:

"Uy! Meron palang Cuma dito!"

Which was, naturally, this:

Dad, on the other hand, was admiring one of Mama's bags and started reminiscing about the time he bought it for her.

"Maganda 'tong bag na 'to. May nabili din akong shoes dun eh. Sa Calhoun."

Which was, obviously, this:

 

Wahahaha.

The race continues.