Brats plucked
I am sitting at Ross, dress for less, right now. Unmindful of the economic activity going on around me. A guy talks or argues on his cellphone in Arabic. Victoria, a nice lady from Iran who I used to work with when I was still doing food service work for the unified school district tends the check-out register. Filipinos talk loudly in Tagalog. And I am sitting on one of the chairs by the entrance of the dress-for-less shoppers bored and blogging.
Earlier I berated the former preciousl little one about her spending or finding things she thinks she needs and had to be bought for her or bought with her allowance. I was following RN in the A6 to Jim and Bert's Auto repair to deliver the big kid's Forenza for further diagnostic tests. The former precious little one was riding along in anticipation of several hours of disappearance at Forever 21 to look for a $10 fancy dress she could wear at her English class activity tomorrow.
"Why do you need to buy a new dress when you could just look for one in your sister's closet. Your teacher probably expects you to be creative and not buy a new one that could only be worn for a couple of hours. You are being trained for creativity. Someday, when you become adults, such training would be handy. The thing is we can't afford. We just spent on buying art materials for your science project over the weekend. You are very lucky to be in America. Why can't you just be happy to be in America and live on what we could provide you? And happy not to be in the Save the Children masterlist in the Third World country where you were born."
I didn't want to keep reminding her that she never would be eaten alive by rats or be at mercy of relatives who were kind enough to give her a roof over her head and be less of a vagrant. Ever again.
I would have smack any offspring of mine telling me to take a chill pill. Not on my face though. But the former precious little one just gave me the dirty look.
"Where are we going next?" RN asked as we changed seats, Karlee to the back seat, RN on the wheel and I on the passenger side.
"Home!" the former precious little one, obviously pissed off, said to no one.
So I thought the former precious little one took my effed up wisdom and forgot about going to Forever 21 to look for a $10 fancy dress.
"Can Daddy take me to Ross, now?" The former precious little one asked me after one hour of just giving her the creativity speech.
I was about to say no but since Ross is known for their cheap merchandize meant for second class naturalized immigrants, I conceded and gave up the bitching.
My father used to tell me that someday i would be a parent and would understand...BS! My father didn't pluck me from the Third World and it was sheer luck that I plucked two would-be brats from an urban poor neighborhood in Manila who now wouldn't take public transportation and would lend clothes to friends so they could buy a new one.
One minute they are so affectionate and the next thing one is asking for my Vibe as high school graduation gift while the other is thinking of a shopping spree with her friends. No matter how many times I tell them that I scrub toilets for a living.
Tomorrow, the first of my three days off, I am carless. The big kid has my Vibe. this morning, after her hysterics over her Forenza stalling on her, we had to pacify her and bring her my Vibe. RN who is going on his tour of community duty has offered me the A6 but I have declined and plan not to change my mind.
I grew up in a rural area in a Third World country and I had no fancy dresses nor private transport to start with. Except for my imagination and two feet. I gave up my bragging rights when I decided to scrub toilets for a living. But I am happy that two brats plucked from the Third World country where they were born were spared from being in any Save the Children masterlist.
Earlier I berated the former preciousl little one about her spending or finding things she thinks she needs and had to be bought for her or bought with her allowance. I was following RN in the A6 to Jim and Bert's Auto repair to deliver the big kid's Forenza for further diagnostic tests. The former precious little one was riding along in anticipation of several hours of disappearance at Forever 21 to look for a $10 fancy dress she could wear at her English class activity tomorrow.
"Why do you need to buy a new dress when you could just look for one in your sister's closet. Your teacher probably expects you to be creative and not buy a new one that could only be worn for a couple of hours. You are being trained for creativity. Someday, when you become adults, such training would be handy. The thing is we can't afford. We just spent on buying art materials for your science project over the weekend. You are very lucky to be in America. Why can't you just be happy to be in America and live on what we could provide you? And happy not to be in the Save the Children masterlist in the Third World country where you were born."
I didn't want to keep reminding her that she never would be eaten alive by rats or be at mercy of relatives who were kind enough to give her a roof over her head and be less of a vagrant. Ever again.
I would have smack any offspring of mine telling me to take a chill pill. Not on my face though. But the former precious little one just gave me the dirty look.
"Where are we going next?" RN asked as we changed seats, Karlee to the back seat, RN on the wheel and I on the passenger side.
"Home!" the former precious little one, obviously pissed off, said to no one.
So I thought the former precious little one took my effed up wisdom and forgot about going to Forever 21 to look for a $10 fancy dress.
"Can Daddy take me to Ross, now?" The former precious little one asked me after one hour of just giving her the creativity speech.
I was about to say no but since Ross is known for their cheap merchandize meant for second class naturalized immigrants, I conceded and gave up the bitching.
My father used to tell me that someday i would be a parent and would understand...BS! My father didn't pluck me from the Third World and it was sheer luck that I plucked two would-be brats from an urban poor neighborhood in Manila who now wouldn't take public transportation and would lend clothes to friends so they could buy a new one.
One minute they are so affectionate and the next thing one is asking for my Vibe as high school graduation gift while the other is thinking of a shopping spree with her friends. No matter how many times I tell them that I scrub toilets for a living.
Tomorrow, the first of my three days off, I am carless. The big kid has my Vibe. this morning, after her hysterics over her Forenza stalling on her, we had to pacify her and bring her my Vibe. RN who is going on his tour of community duty has offered me the A6 but I have declined and plan not to change my mind.
I grew up in a rural area in a Third World country and I had no fancy dresses nor private transport to start with. Except for my imagination and two feet. I gave up my bragging rights when I decided to scrub toilets for a living. But I am happy that two brats plucked from the Third World country where they were born were spared from being in any Save the Children masterlist.
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