childhood memoir

It’s not about pathetic reminiscing or dismal melodrama.
it's never about melodrama.

It’s about gathering together amusing simplicities one has experienced as a child-

Growing up in silent wonder of when and at what point did everything else start to become complex-
While thinking of those early morning braids and tight pigtails by Ate Vilma-- her brown hands yanking hard at a stubborn clump of hair until my white scalp becomes visible along the hair line.

Of after-lunch tiptoes to the Forbidden Room for small pilferages of A-ma’s sweet kiamoys,

Of melancholy nights with my body smelling of vapor rub and Sunflower oil; a moist Hello Kitty face towel pressed on my forehead-- a consequence for playing in the rain.

Of groggy school bus rides and forgotten Care Bear lunch boxes.

Of being asked to stand in front of the principal's office due to slapping a male classmate who would like to hold my hand.

Of countless "Pang He Na Le's" (Chinese of 'Remain for detention!') for having been caught passing notes with friends in the front row.

Of reading Sweet Valley's and R.L. Stine's-- the pages of which are stained with Cheese Curls-encrusted fingerprints.

Of waking up early for Sunday school but only because of the cute toys and sweet candies they give once you’ve memorized a Bible verse.

Of summer days composing of heat rash, necks white with Fissan powder, and green tongues from sucking at avocado-flavored ice candy.

Of ambitiously trying out Mom’s high heels and walking around the house with tote bags hanging on bony shoulders.

Of the fragrant smell of brewing sinigang as my Achi and I play Snakes n’ Ladders while sprawled on the wooden sala floor.

Of Saturday ballet and piano lessons I would hate to attend because I would rather play tumbang preso with the plump, sweaty boys next door.

Of gleeful afternoon naps anticipating my growing up soon, but only to think about being a child again.

Sigh!