My happiest memory of my family (that is when we were still living in one roof) is when we go get groceries together. Actually, not really in the store, but when we are stucked in a godforsaken traffic along alabang-zapote road on our way home.
Kuya who was then still single (before my big sis Joan give birth to my cute nephew, Wesley, was born) hunched on the wheels (while one hand picking his nose) and patiently waiting for the light to turn green.
My little brother who was then around 6 years old, lost somewhere at the extreme back playing with Snowie (our spitz) or probably just lying on the floor doing god knows what.
Ma and Daddy sitting in the middle.
Me, of course, sitting on the front seat, short legs propped up on the dashboard and tapping my hands to the beat of the music.
And guess what? At my pesky little brother's constant prodding and whinning...
we were all singing: at iba pa songs! Urgh!
Funny... This may sound so lame but as simple as it may seem this is one memory i would keep in my pensieve and guard with my life 'til the day the sun fails to shine.
Getting mushy now, ain't i?
just senseless laments, ramblings, stories, tales, lies of a true-blue self-absorbed, two-faced, fun-loving badass (irl, she's indeed more than that)
Friday, March 24, 2006
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