Because Apple is the new Mama

On the very first day of 2015, I had breakfast with older sister Apple and her family at my place. As it was turning out to be a lazy day, and no one seemed to want to go home yet, 8-year-old Martina suggested that we try out their new card game of Scrabble Dash.

Photo included here for your gaming knowledge

So everyone pretended to have acute-onset hearing loss. (I did say it was a lazy day.)

After a few more pleas from Martina, we all finally succumbed. Fine. Brain games. Whatever.

Scrabble Dash turned out to be a F - U - N game, which probably explains the box design. And by 'fun', I mean it brought out the shrieky competitiveness in us. Which is more than I can say for the Game of Life, which we played begrudgingly on New Year's Eve. (And PS, I have enough trouble with real life. Don't let me deal with life, in card form or otherwise, any more than I have to.)

No FUN on the cover ... or while playing

Towards the end, most of us (Martina, Tatay Jesse and me) were standing and shouting, one of us (Juancho) was writhing in laughter-aggravated back pain, and the rest (Apple) was ... well ....

In a nutshell, you play Scrabble Dash by laying down words as fast as you can based on an instruction card. So if the card said 'Proper noun', you can put B - E - Y - O - N - C - E on the table. Simple.

In one round, the instruction card said 'Three-letter word'.

So Jesse immediately put down three cards:

L - A - T

Me: What in the world is LAT?

Jesse (trying to demonstrate): Lat! Lat!!! Lat machine. You know, like at the gym.

Of course he was referring to something like this:

Me with a different race and body type. So, in effect, not me.

Me (without knowing what that machine is really called, but desperate to win): No way!!! 'Lat' is not accepted!

Apple: Lat??? No!!! And besides, that's spelled with a T - H.

Whaaahhaaaat?

What's a lath?

Presenting ...

... a lathe. With an 'e'. And a completely different pronunciation.
FYI, Apple.

And that's how my 2015 began: With a whole lath of laughs.

BOOM! (Season-appropriate ender)


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Update: So I was informed by more than one person that there is such a thing as a lath. My apologies for not researching enough. I would still like to point out that Jesse was not referring to either a lath or a lathe. As my loyal friend Marie told me when she read Apple's defense on Facebook: "Too lathe!" Hahahaha! 

A 'haha' in the middle of a 'huhu'

It was my most dreaded day. A day that I thought would be described as 'sad' at best, but turned out to be more like one endlessly, heartbreakingly painful ordeal.

It was the day Joemar died.

After his last breath on that sad 4th of September (and after I regained my sense of responsibility), I texted our close mutual friends and my sisters about what happened. My sisters and my parents, who all loved Joemar as well, were in the United States at the time. It was before 5 am in their part of the world.

Mia, our youngest and the New York resident, was first to read the message. She immediately burst into tears and tried to wake Apple, who was sleeping on the couch. Naturally, it was a futile effort, so Mia tried the other people in her home.

When she entered my parents' assigned bedroom, Dad was packing because it was their last day in Mia's apartment.

[This is an important fact: It was their last day in New York. Just had to emphasize it. You may proceed.]

Mia, while hysterically sobbing, hugged my hearing-impaired father [<--Another important fact] and told him the news about Joemar.

In response, my Dad tearfully said ...

"We'll miss you too, Mia."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAaaaaa ... *fade out*

So upon realizing that Dad thought she was crying over her family's departure, Mia went to Mama and explained what was going on. Third time's a charm.

And then they all cried.

:(

Ummm, I don't know how to give this story a happier ending, so here's a video of a baby bewildered by twins. You're welcome.

Mama in New York (Part 2)*

Mama, Dad and sister Apple watched Wicked for the first time in New York this year. To the surprise of no one, they all loved it – including my father, who admitted later on that he did not understand a thing.

So when they got back home, Apple tried to explain bits of the play to Dad (this, to me, was the real surprise: that Ate actually paid attention) (LOL).

[Warning: 'Wicked' spoilers ahead]

Apple, speaking to Dad: (paraphrased) Some characters in Wicked became characters in the Wizard of Oz. For example, Fiyero became the Scarecrow, and Boq became the Tin Man. And then we saw Dorothy on the yellow brick road ...

Mama, the person who allegedly understood the play: (not paraphrased) So what happened to Alice in Wonderland?

(I'll let that sink in for a bit.)

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

My mother – defying both gravity and logic.

Elphaba became the Mad Hatter

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*You can read Part 1 here.

Mama in New York (Part 1)

Mama, Dad and older sister Apple were in New York in September to visit younger sister Mia. It was also US Open season so they were able to see a couple of games, much to my tennis-loving parents' happiness (Just an FYI: Apple couldn't care less about tennis, but she had nowhere else to go anyway. #shouldvebeenme).

One time, while just chilling in Mia's place, they caught one of Serena's matches on TV. You'll need to know that at the US Open this year, Ms Williams (who eventually won the slam) was wearing this:

Or sometimes this:

OK then.

So this is the conversation that followed after my mother, who was a teacher for most of her adult life, saw Serena for the first time:

Mama: Wow, tiger outfit!

Apple: Wrong animal, Ma. Try again.

Mama: Oh yeah ... I meant

...

LION.

L to R: Lion, Tiger (Not in photo: Serena's outfit)
You're welcome, Mama.

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).