I’ve been absent at work for two days. One of the joys of having a common cold is that it turns my rather dull lips to red. Today, I feel like going out of the house and let girls drool at my tomato lips. But I’m sick and I might have A(H1N1). In any case, no one can stop me from looking at the mirror and let my overbloated self-confidence take the best of me. What better way to entertain myself anyway? I’m deadly bored in the house and there’s nothing much else to do other than talk to some butiki on the wall. My theory is that butikis are actually angels disguised as ugly reptiles. Haven’t you noticed that every time you commit an evil plan, there’s a butiki staring at you? Or the time when you are about to do something bad at night, you hear “tu-ko” repeatedly echoing in your ears?
As a child, I used to think that clouds were the angels, not the butikis. I remember sliding down the window of our car, looking above, and talking to the clouds every time I was running late in school. “Clouds, sana late mag-ring ang bell.” And voila, the bell would ring late and I would be saved.
Oh, since we’re talking about my childhood days, let me tell you one amazing story that I’ve written about many times already. When I was 8 years old, I accurately predicted that my brother, who was still in my mother’s womb, would be born on June 10, the day after my birthday. It was not actually a prediction but rather a selfish wish. (Why I wanted my brother to be born on that day, I can’t remember.) However, I announced it with conviction like I was freaking Nostradamus. My aunt quipped, “Marunong ka pa sa doctor!” Well, the doctor predicted, based on some scientific evidence, that my brother would be born sometime in September. And that’s three months away from my prediction! Well, for some miraculous event, I was proven right and the rest was history. Moral of the story? God only listens to a child. So next time you’re wishing for something, let the child do the prayers for you. Have a nice day!
