Salute to Parents
Libis suffered from traffic Saturday afternoon, prompting me to head straight to the church (Our Lady of the Abandoned Parish - Marikina) instead of meeting up with the family at home. My newest nephew Huan was to have his christening, and I was one of the godfathers. The ceremony was quick and, well, unsolemn, with everyone seeming fidgety and clueless, not like that shown in the whitening soap commercial. More than ten babies were christened that afternoon, afterwhich we were hurriedly shooed off to give way to the wedding that was to follow.
I joined my mom back home so she could put the finishing touches on the thai bagoong rice before proceeding to my brother's house in Concepcion. While I had my coffee and nicotine in the garden and gave pleasantries to the nature spirits, my sister arrived and begged me to join the chaos in the other street. The kiddies' trick-or-treating had commenced, and my sister had to "abandon" my niece to take her place at her "treat post." (I learned it was an activity organized by my niece's pre-school.)
It was while parading with the shrieking, clawing, costume-clad young'uns up Pine Street and down Elm Street when I reinforced my vow not to have kids. I have to salute all parents out there for being able to endure child-rearing, especially when the child reaches those years of hyperactivity and innocent nonchalance. I held my niece's hand throughout the procession as she carried her load, all the while watching the ground so as not to step on little feet, be it of witch, spiderman, or mulawin.
After reaching my sister's treat post, I surrendered Andee to her and headed on home, shaking my head and smiling to myself.
I admire my parents, especially my mom. We were four children spaced a year apart. How did she do it?
Libis suffered from traffic Saturday afternoon, prompting me to head straight to the church (Our Lady of the Abandoned Parish - Marikina) instead of meeting up with the family at home. My newest nephew Huan was to have his christening, and I was one of the godfathers. The ceremony was quick and, well, unsolemn, with everyone seeming fidgety and clueless, not like that shown in the whitening soap commercial. More than ten babies were christened that afternoon, afterwhich we were hurriedly shooed off to give way to the wedding that was to follow.
I joined my mom back home so she could put the finishing touches on the thai bagoong rice before proceeding to my brother's house in Concepcion. While I had my coffee and nicotine in the garden and gave pleasantries to the nature spirits, my sister arrived and begged me to join the chaos in the other street. The kiddies' trick-or-treating had commenced, and my sister had to "abandon" my niece to take her place at her "treat post." (I learned it was an activity organized by my niece's pre-school.)
It was while parading with the shrieking, clawing, costume-clad young'uns up Pine Street and down Elm Street when I reinforced my vow not to have kids. I have to salute all parents out there for being able to endure child-rearing, especially when the child reaches those years of hyperactivity and innocent nonchalance. I held my niece's hand throughout the procession as she carried her load, all the while watching the ground so as not to step on little feet, be it of witch, spiderman, or mulawin.
After reaching my sister's treat post, I surrendered Andee to her and headed on home, shaking my head and smiling to myself.
I admire my parents, especially my mom. We were four children spaced a year apart. How did she do it?
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