Question 1189

1189

Standing before her 2nd grade pupils, Mrs. Segismundo held a yellow cardboard high enough for everyone in the classroom to see. On the cardboard were cutout pictures of men doing different things. One was fishing; the other one was doing farm work. There was a man with a suitcase and another with a police gun. The last two men in the picture were doing something I couldn’t very well recognize. I worried about that. What if Mrs. Segismundo would ask me about it?

Mrs. Segismundo then lowered the cardboard and started talking about what each man was doing in the picture. Of that last two men, she mentioned something about counting money and building houses. ¯\(°_o)/

She also added that these men are usually called the ‘head of the family’ and that they do different kinds of work in order to put food on the table.

“They are your fathers,” said Mrs. Segismundo. “Now each of you is going to tell me about your father’s job; what he is doing to provide for your family.”

Mrs. Segismundo first asked the kids who were seated at the first row. Everyone in the class eagerly listened to what each kid was going to say. I learned that at least three of them had fathers whose job was the same as my Papa’s.  Mrs. Segismundo’s face would light up at every answer. The rest of us giggled.

And then it was my turn! Fuzzy thought bubbles with an image of Papa in it appeared from my head and with pride, I blazoned abroad — “MY FATHER IS A FARMER.”

Mrs. Segismundo was quick to clarify herself. “Oh, dear, I was asking about your father.”

“Yes, Mrs. Segismundo. He is a farmer.”

Mrs. Segismundo’s brows furrowed, and for a while, she stood there all silent and motionless.  I couldn’t make out her facial expression. She was staring at me as if what I said was beyond anybody’s comprehension. As if my response was something like “Wheoujduyhkg”.

“But, dear—” she said with a real concern in her voice. Her heels made loud clunks as she stepped towards me.

“Your father is not a farmer. Your grandfather is.”

Wait—what? Did Mrs. Segismundo just say “Wheoujduyhkg”?

I heard whispers from around me. Restrained chuckles, too. Mrs. Segismundo glared at them, whoever they were. They hushed up.

She then stared back at me and I thought the very intensity of such gaze would bring tears into my eyes.

“Darling—”

She hesitated at first, but went on anyway. “Your father is a sailor. Don’t you know?”

My mouth hung open. The classroom erupted into laughter.

Life’s Pushing Moment

competitiveness

Going to great lengths just to get dibs on that cockroach before your cat does

Life’s A-ha Moment

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PMS is an ogre. Truth!
But I would rather that my PMS be in the form of migraine than it be in the form of me giving someone a migraine

(More A-ha Moments here.)

Life’s Bleak Moment

All that stupid crap they tell you about how a hilarious day of clowning around (which in my case was ‘yesterday’) might lead to sorrow the next day, it’s all true.

Question 312

Can I just shamelessly plug my boyfriend‘s song from his music channel?

Here it goes:

And to borrow his words: This song is an original composition of mine. It’s about the kind of love which is unfailing and steadfast. The kind of love that causes a human being to change dramatically.

Enjoy listening!

Life’s Sweetest Moment…Then Not

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I proudly present the new addition to the Encarnación household, Yao Ming.

Cats kissing you back is like the sweetest thing ever, until you see them chewing away at a cockroach.

You might like:

Letters to Our Cat by Silva Gang

The Garment Factory Incident

Reblogged from justathirdculturekid:

I apologize for this being so late. I have been meaning to write for ages, but never got around to it. Then I had some technical malfunctions and was unable to get onto my site. For the last week I have had a terrible terrible virus that seems to be known as ‘writer’s block’. I shudder at the thought of it ;)

Read more… 269 more words

My heart is bleeding. :(

Question 1157

1157

To borrow KK’s answer:

Someone else’s husband

Life’s Moment of Gratitude

Charles Ramsey, yo!

For the heroic act Charles Ramsey and company did for those women

I’m thinking the world of you all.

Question 841

841

He swallows his saliva. Silence goes deafening and he cannot just bear it more. He does know that he is in big trouble with his girlfriend. Still holding hands, he quickens his pace to match hers. “Are you okay?”

Unfortunately for him she is not.

She halts, slips from his grip,  glares at him, and in less than two seconds, she loses her mind and hauls him over the coals. “I cannot believe you were considering doing it.” Her tone is a mixture of disbelief and disappointment. “And I highly doubt [those nice female colleagues of yours] would even ask whether YOUR GIRLFRIEND is okay with it…”

He takes her hand again and locks it with his a little tighter this time. Her yakking continues, all while trying to fling his arm away from her body.

He then stops her, grabs her waist and pulls her close to him.

Then and there he gives her a cool-down hug despite her every attempt of resistance. He will NOT let go until the green-eyed monster, as Shakespeare called it, sets out from her head and she calms down.

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