i rest my case

"you look like your mom." arggh! i always get that remark from people eversince i was a kid. when i was 10, i took that as a compliment. but now i'm 22, good heavens, it ain't funny anymore. don't get me wrong. i really love and admire my mom. but being her "mini-me" is so not my thing. [look, if you really want to compliment the features i inherited from her, you can simply say, "you're beautiful, like your mom." that's more palatable.] and besides, i don't really look like her. we may have similar features and characteristics but i take a firm stand, we're different. in a lot of ways, like:

1. she's 5'7", i'm only 5'2". [yea sure. laugh 'til your face turns blue. at least my waist line's 26. hers is 36. wahahaha!]

2. her skin is much fairer than mine. [but honestly, she's envious of my being morena. that's true. i heard her say that in my dreams.]

3. she's definitely got those perfect pair of dimples, and i don't. [call it whatever you want, for me it's just an abnormal concavity on the skin. no thanks.]

okay, now you got the point. all that i'm saying is [since it's mother's day today] you're more beautiful than me, mom. [but hey! mother's day comes only once a year.] bleh!

seriously, i gladly accept our differences, mom. i love you for who you are and thanks for loving me for who i am. you'll always be my favorite mom in the whole world. [as if i have a choice.] bleh bleh!

daddy's girl?

i remember, when i was a little girl, my dad..

. would always do 100 brush strokes to my long black hair every night, before i sleep. he said i shouldn't miss a night so that my hair will stay untangled and shiny. [until rebonding was invented. hehe.]
. would wake me up with a hug so tight forgetting that he just did when he bade me sweet dreams, the night before, after combing my hair.
. would read stories to me, as a reward, when i finish my homework early.
. would give me all the coins in his pocket, everytime he has. eventhough he knows that i'll just spend it all on candies [and miss dinner because of it.]
. would pick me up, everytime i trip up, and cradle me on his lap until i stop crying.

and i remember, when i was not so little..

. he'd wake me up so early on saturdays and force me to help with the chores at home.
. he'd implement dictatorship and not allow me to watch tv on weekdays.
. he'd not let me go out wearing shorts.
. he'd spank me with his belt, until i cry for mercy, each time i did something wrong intentionally. [provoking my brother for me then was fun and spontaneous. hehe. evil me.]
. he'd not leave the dining table until i finish all the food on my plate. especially the green, leafy ones. [i don't consider them food then.]

my dear dad. i miss him. especially now that he's out on a business trip. and now that i'm a little bigger, [and i think i won't get any bigger] i get more tough coaching from him than when i was just growing. but i believe i'm still her little girl. always needing his consoling, cradling arms. and i bet, he knows that.