I’ve been sick since Monday. Tonsilitis again. Last year, I had this seven (or eight?) times. Gaaaah. Told ya, the relationship between infections and my tonsils is almost romantic. They love each other sooo much, they might elope in the near future. But if there’s any consolation, I’m losing weight FAST! Yay for that.
Anyway… Guess who’s back!!!
Because Tepid Rain isn’t from Heaven
One night, I was in the middle of a barren land. A few months before, it was a cane field. Then my childhood started playing in my head again. This was where my brother and I ran kites. This was where my friends and I played softball. This was where I used to kick my football around on. But this time was different. It was a cold evening. And it was raining. And I was happy. I haven’t walked in the rain in a long, long time.
Something was wrong, though. The water was warm.
And I woke up. It was a dream. I opened my eyes. And there was my nephew. Standing on the bed. Peeing. Sleep-peeing. On me.
Cue: Abba, “…I’ll cross the stream. I have a dream….”
Because Gloating is Fun
If there’s one thing that my nephew didn’t get from me, that’s shame. I have always had a strong sense of shame since I was a baby. (Yeah, I never made dede in public. Haha. Weh?)
My nephew, on the other hand, does what he wants when he wants it. Like dozing off. NEVER have I ever slept at the workplace or at school. But my nephew, gaah, his classroom is his bedroom. He finds it comfy. And no matter how hard his Teacher Janna tries, he always uses Science class hour for his nap time.
So when his first Periodic Exam came last August (?), I was a little scared for him. When we passed the gates of his school, he was greeted by many of his classmates’ parents with disheartening remarks. One of them even asked my nephew sarcastically, “Oh, how are you gonna pass this test when you always sleep your way through the classes?”
I couldn’t reply. Wait there, you old hag; I’ll come up with a sinister, condescending comment, I thought. But I couldn’t. No condescending comment was thrown. I was not sure how he was gonna make through this exam, either.
When the exam was over, I asked my nephew how it was. He shrugged, “It’s okay.”
The next day, I was waiting for my nephew’s class to finish. Apparently, the papers had been checked and the results were out.
My nephew scored 100%. He was the only one.
And boy did it feel REAL good asking the parents about their children’s grades. Wahaha. There goes my sinister, condescending comment, I mumbled.
Because Cockiness is Hereditary
One time in September, I dropped by my nephew’s school to pick him up. I found him at the parking lot, near the church. (It’s a Catholic school by the way.) He was sitting on the ground with his back pressed on the wall. He looked depressed and harried. The last time he looked like that was when he kicked the School Principal on the ankles because he wanted to take home an enormous Sto. Nino displayed inside the church and the principal won’t let him.
Yoshke: What’s wrong?
Nephew: I’m just tired.
Yoshke: Did you play the whole morning?
Nephew: No. We studied.
Yoshke: And you’re tired?
Yoshke: What made you feel sooo tired like this?
Nephew: Because I’m so smart. I kept on answering Teacher Janna’s questions. I answered all her questions. And I stood up and sat again and stood and sat and stood and sat again. It’s tiring. I’m sooo tired. I’m sooo smart.
Whoah. At least he inherited my cocksure attitude.