My Cool Sis
A week or so after London, I came home Sunday for a much-needed Mama-style lunch -- which my small family always shared with Tita Fides and Marga. I wanted the food; but I dreaded the expected uneasiness between Marga and me. I also anticipated Joanne to drag me into a corner and give me shit about what I did or didn't do. My worst fear was for Joanne to mention it in front of the moms and make my recurring nightmare a reality.
My strategy to keep my dignity intact was to stuff my mouth with shrimps for the entire afternoon. Freakishly big shrimps.
So it was a touching surprise how my sister practically worked up a comedy routine to keep the mood light that Sunday. No mention of Jeff's long-time love for Marga. No reference to Baguio. No talk of the pagka-busted. Saying I was relieved would be a horrendous understatement.
I was getting into my car, when Joanne embraced me. "The guy's a prick. My money is still on you. And that's not because we share DNA."
Cool sis, huh?
My strategy to keep my dignity intact was to stuff my mouth with shrimps for the entire afternoon. Freakishly big shrimps.
So it was a touching surprise how my sister practically worked up a comedy routine to keep the mood light that Sunday. No mention of Jeff's long-time love for Marga. No reference to Baguio. No talk of the pagka-busted. Saying I was relieved would be a horrendous understatement.
I was getting into my car, when Joanne embraced me. "The guy's a prick. My money is still on you. And that's not because we share DNA."
Cool sis, huh?
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