going bananas

I have been babysitting my niece. She is totally something for an nine year old - rambunctious. For people who have to deal with nine year olds they wouldn't find this surprising at all. But I am single and though I have two younger siblings that I had to care for once in awhile when my parents were away they had a similar upbringing as mine and a similar parent who ruled us with an iron hand.

I have a father, the Colonel, who hailed from the hallowed grounds of Loakan where the Philippine Military Academy stands proud with all its glory and cadets cower and are cowered upon depending on what year you are. As his children we grew up cowering. I don't even want to start with my mother - the General...I'd freeze my gut just trying. So growing up we cannot live, breathe, move, and think without our parents approval. It was tough but it kept us all lined up straight as a rod...for a couple of years.

My niece, Baby B, makes me feel emotions that I have never felt for other people especially grown ups. We have almost a 20 year gap but she and I argue like siblings… nothing deliberate just that after growing up (almost) following my parents stringently and gotten used to being followed all the time by subordinates I find her indifference when asked to do her homework slowly taxing my patience like a wave crashing on a land over and over until erosion occurs. And taking on her face when I asked her to help in chores I challenge her patience too. She is can be so obdurate.

I had to leave her while she was sleeping one early morning and bring my youngest sister, Kitty Cat, to the airport. I came back with her eyes puffed and in a pensive mood. My brother-in-law said she was crying when she realized I was gone and did not say goodbye. she had to be comforted that I will be back soon. My heart did a wee bit of a somersault and my face softened as she walked over to me and gave me a hug asking if we can go swimming that afternoon. She got me under her thumb this time.

I have forgotten how to be a child as I stripped off my memory of my childhood and painted a white canvas instead. It is a past I only recall selective memories and the rest of it I stuffed in a black box and pushed in the back of my mind which I try not to reach. But feeling her hug and her unselfishness to give me kisses I realized that a child's primary job is to play. And she could she mean at times but I know that she does not mean to hurt and by reason (and prayers) eventually she will grow up a healthy person responsible but have the zest for life.

I just walked back to my portable after shouting above the music for her to lower the volume of the iPod as there are customers eating in Smoke. She gave me face before she complied and I grinned asking what she wants for dinner. She beams and smiles up at me as she headed down stairs, halfway down she shouts, “Cheese Omelette, tita!"