Smart Girl, This One!

Bela: I'm thirsty, Mommy. Can I have water please?

Mommy: I'm sorry, Bela, but I don't have water with me here. Why don't you go down and ask yaya for a glass of water.

Bela: But why me, Mommy?

Mommy: Because you're the one who's thirsty, my love.

Bela: Okay ... Do you also want some water, Mommy?

Mommy: Why, thank you, Bela. Yes, I'd like to have some water too.

Bela: Okay, Mommy, so you go and get water for the two of us!

When Life Imitates Art

Or when Gabi pretends to be his favorite zombie going against imaginary plants.

Pretty in Pink

Bela now likes to pick the clothes she wears. And she always chooses pink. From top to toes.

I wonder what it is with the color  pink and young girls? Are girls born to like the color? Or am I just perpetuating a cliche? Are parents --- and grandparents! --- just brainwashed by manufacturers of kids' clothes and toys into thinking that all girls like pink?

And what if a young girl shows preference for say, blue? Or what if a boy shows a liking for pink? Isn't it true that we try to change their tastes?

Conformists we all are. And not just with colors.

The Fall. The Hurt.

I saw he was hurting. After the fall. Not only his scratched knee but more so his bruised ego. But he didn't show it and put up a brave front. He walked it off with a slight limp and a brave smile.

At times like this, all you can do is give him a high five and embrace him. Not too tight nor too long lest you embarrass him in front of his friends. No need to say, "it's okay, my son, you did your best." He knows that already. And has the scars to prove it.

He never talked about it and I never probed. Until  last Sunday, a good week after the incident, when we had breakfast in McDonald's, just the two of us. "Papa, do you think I could have won that race?" he asked in between fries. "Yes, son, you could have," I simply replied. And hugged him tight.