Sunday's Best!

This is a great Sunday! Minus Love (my cousin who already went home to Pangasinan), my homies are comfortably at home and the thought of having ourselves gather for breakfast is just fantastic. I went to hear the 7:30 AM Mass today. I left the house like a thief because I was careful not to wake my housemates who were still under their sheets. It’s Sunday anyway and I think everybody deserves to rest – even God rested on the seventh day! When I returned from Mass, Regie was already awake but still indecisive to get up. In a weary voice he asked where I went and I told him I heard Mass alone. He scoffed at my reply because it was unusually early and I would most likely tag him along to hear Mass with me. In my defense I said, I wanted to get back to sleep early too and I think he understood because he decided to sleep again. I did not sleep right away. I felt like emailing My Sweet first so I did. Then I heard my stomach growled. It would be bad to go to bed hungry, I thought. I decided I would cook breakfast first. My brother SMSed that he is on his way home already and I’m sure he could bear with my cooking because I know he would be hungry too from work. Omelet was my top choice for our breakfast menu, with onions and tomatoes. We have not had eggs for more than a week. Besides, I do not make bad eggs at all, just average output. In addition to steamed rice, it would not hurt to add another carbohydrate-inducing option, albeit an instant food favorite at home, Lucky Me Pancit Canton! These would count at 'satisfying' for empty stomachs. While cooking the omelet, my brother’s arrival signaled getup time. He has a special talent for distracting people at sleep, which he could not apply on me. The house was bouncing, and this has not been the case for so many weeks now when there were only two or three people at home. Today, everybody is at home. Today, everybody is up and alive. And with all honesty, it is a good and relieving sight for me. Just thank You, God. As soon as I finished cooking, we all gathered at the table for breakfast. I asked if there is a new DVD we could watch afterwards. Regie said only Christian’s [Bautista] music CD is new on the rack. Ate Melyn suddenly blurted a laugh and echoed ‘Christian! Christian!’ – at which point Peter and my brother jointly laughed too. Maybe I was still hazy or already feeling sleepy but I cannot miss the laughing trip so I asked what the matter is. Without really coercing them to share what they were laughing about, my brother volunteered to recount his most embarrassing elementary experience – pooping in his pants! Ate Melyn, Peter and my brother went to the same elementary school. My other brother, Christian, was Ate Melyn’s classmate. One school morning before their flag ceremony began, another student came running to my brother Christian and, lacking discretion, disclosed the news: “Christian! Christian! Amay agim, si Cleo, akatae!” Translated to English, “Christian! Christian! Your brother Cleo pooped in his pants!” Hahahaha. More hahahaha! My eldest brother must have felt nearly disowning our brother Cleo at that point. Even if it was against his will, my brother Christian brought our brother Cleo home with two umbrellas covering his behind. According to my brother Cleo, it was the longest walk he has ever done, with multiple stops in between to suppress nature’s call, but always unsuccessful. He left a trail along the way like Little Red Riding Hood, only those were not crumbs. Ewww! Then the table turned to me. My brother Cleo also recounted my embarrassing experience when I sat in a class for a week in their school because my school was on an earthquake-break then. Out of frustration to write the cursive of ‘R’ and neglected by a cousin who was sitting beside me to teach me how, I unnecessarily bawled when the teacher asked the class to submit the written exercise. I was not an official part of the class but being the go-getter that I know I am, I was really disappointed. My disappointment was expressed in my unstoppable weeping. My brother Cleo’s attention was called so he could bring me home. “Gala la ta unsempet ta la,” (Come now and let’s go home.) he said while tugging at me. I was crouching with my head between my knees trying to hide my face when I answered, “Agko gabay. Dakdakel ni sali.” (I don’t want to. There are still many feet around.) I was referring to the feet of the pupils of that elementary school. They gathered around me like spectators of a show – a show of my embarrassing behavior. They were laughing at me and waiting for my next step or another delivery of a punch line. My brother pulled me out of the school grounds and I no longer resisted. I knew then I could no longer save my face. I never came back the next morning. I was remembered as a crying baby in that school. We could not stop ourselves from laughing. It was a hearty breakfast with my cooking and funny elementary memories. Certainly this won’t be the last.

*****

We ate our late lunch at Mang Inasal where I had three (yes, 3!) cups of rice. Screw the diet now. Starvation is an immediate problem, plus my head is near explosion for thinking of what to get My Sweet for Christmas. Even my guy-homies were not really of a big help.

*****

The sweetest thing on earth for me – My Sweet Allan, just called. I missed his first call. I was doing the dishes and sharing good laughs over a documentary film on the television when he called. When I went up to my room to check on my phone, there was the missed call. It was just 6:00 PM, earlier than his usual call time. The funny thing is I was actually expecting his call at this hour. He has ESP! Allan’s been acting strange lately. He has been calling me every night (if that is a weird thing) since last week. I am actually loving the calls and it makes me upset whenever I miss his calls. But is it not costly for him to make the calls? I never have the nerve to ask. I only want to make the best out of our conversations. But I told him that I want to call him some times too, only I am not sure if he’s in the middle of something at work or what. So I never really tried calling him since he returned. The previous phone conversations have been sweeter each time and did I say strange too? He is talking about puzzle pieces that I have to put together, if you know what I mean. He would talk about his plans upon his return in May next year. He would give out ideas which apparently are clues to something. I am not so dumb not to get the picture but he scares me. In a good way, I guess. I only want him to come back to the Philippines safe and healthy and swine-flu-free. I miss My Sweet Allan. I love him so much that I wish tomorrow is already May.