Thursday, September 8, 2011

I admit I had never been reliable with household chores.

When I was a kid, my mother often had to do the things that she originally asked me to do, by herself, because I was often busy reading a book, or writing something I never let anyone read, or studying the movie schedules on HBO. I'm sure there were times when I had reasonably caused my mother great exasperation and was definitely a constant stress generator - then (let me just add that part). I used to find it odd how a lot of times I got away with being such a slacker.

But I don't anymore.

I don't find my mother's lax parenting odd anymore.

These days at six in the morning I make a habit of sleep-walking out of my bed with my camera and jumping on my bike. Often before I pedal out of earshot, I would hear my father ask, "Tikain dadama it hiya?" (Where is she going this time?)

And then my mother's free-and-easy response would always come, "Ti-picture hit mga dampog." (She's off to take pictures of the clouds.)

Now I understand that my mother's long-suffering patience with me when I was a kid was deliberate and not an error in her judgment. As young as I was then, she already knew that her ten year old had her head in the clouds, and decided that it was alright.

I'm an airhead, and my mom says it's okay. 

My Father's Daughter

So I was talking to Tatay about how I thought it was high time that I learned how to drive something else besides Leonardo (my bicycle).

He got all serious, like he always does when people start talking about cars. He told me that we could both save up for it. I often need specifics on monetary issues so I asked him exactly how we were going to split  it up and how much I would be expected to contribute.

"Ah, pag half-half kita."

"Oh, okay."

"Half-half. 20 it akon, 80 it imo."

I am now certain that I am not adopted. I finally know where I got my crazy Math skills from.