Revisitation

I went back to my Alma Mater, SPED, this morning to attend my youngest brother's Smart Day. Of course, I met some of my old teachers
(in chronological order)
Teacher Em
Teacher Joy
Teacher Fides
Sir Badong
Ma'am Rizza
Ma'am Emerenciana
Teacher Anitalinda
Teacher Elena
and Teacher Marivi.

It was so good to see them again.

Reminiscences

He reminded me so much when I was young. That little kid.
He was the first one to enter during the processional march.
That distinct, arrogant manner of walking.
I saw him sitting there, that little kid, second column, on the front row, to the extreme left.
He was always looking down, unmindful of everything that has been happening around, until he finally got on to his foot as soon as the teacher called him on stage.
"Good morning," he shouts.
And then he continues on with his fluent emceeing.
He smiled as if smiling was a luxury good that only very few people can afford to have.
And his hair, yes, that shiny jet black hair. The one that looks like a mop top, only with the sideburns shaved quite high.
He gave a song number during a short intermission.
And, indubitably, that high pitch. That very high pitch.
The teacher called him first to receive his certificate and report card.
At the end of the ceremony, went to his mom sitting at the far end, and was congratulated by all of the neighbouring mums and dads.

Now, I don't even get to on stage more than once or twice.


Repartee

Where do you want to go now?
Home.
You want to go to Jollibee for lunch?
No.
So where do you want to go?
Home.


Return

I hate it when tricycle drivers have no change for the bills you pay them, because the burden of scavenging for coins to pay them lies totally on you. You may have to search the whole 100-meter radius of rock, cement, road, and dirty canals just to find someone else whom you can exchange your bills with coins.

And I really hate it when you have to wait outside the gate for someone to open it for you because it's locked. As if the people inside the house are afraid of someone ambuscading them when they all know that it's like in the middle of the day and everyone is awake and it's so hot outside no one would even dare wait on someone else's gate for hours under the searing sun just to prepare for that perfect ambush moment. I'm not a murderer okay. Why does everyone have to hide all the way at the back of the house.

And it's really annoying when you find him sleeping like a pig on the couch, with the TV remote tightly gripped on his right hand, the television broadcasting a show to an audience of thin air, when the rest of the dads in the universe are out there watching their children receive their certificates on their very special day of recognition for their efforts in school.

*************