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And borne of a MoneyDoctors story, we have produced one. And we called it The Walking Eater.
Thing is, it is not just a MoneyDoctors story. It is actually our story. My husband’s story.
He is the walking eater.
Cut It
But boys will be boys. Will be boys.
And my husband, is a boy. (still a boy)
He always has gadget fads that he swears will not last. But they keep morphing into some other fad, that I want to scream to him: Yes honey, they do not last but they always, always get replaced with something else that take your time away from us!
Like now, it is his PSP and his Tekken game. He plays it every chance he gets – when waiting for an appointment or before the start of a meeting, in the bathroom, in his office (I bet – but he owns it so I think it is okay), in my hospital bed (when I was recently hospitalized), downstairs in our house when my children and I are having playtime and how-are-you-time upstairs, in our bedroom when the lights have been dimmed and my baby boy who is trying to sleep could not sleep because he is distracted by the eerie disco lights and slightly muted sounds from the PSP game.
I could go on.
Please allow me.
Expand
We hate this, we will never do that, we would rather die first, or punctuate our thoughts with “…only if hell freezes over”, allowing ourselves to fall prey to strong feelings of (false) pride, revulsion, aversion or not wanting something to the point of repulsion or loathing. We do not realize that simply by planting those seeds of thought in our minds, we have placed a behemoth obstacle in our paths.
Art by Chiarra Briones
With every kick at my gut, I was reminded that I was not alone. With every fluttering in my stomach, I knew he was there, his father’s son, and he was coming very soon.
He came and I did not have any idea what I had to do.
How does one prepare for baby?
The Way to Wealth
I just passed the insurance examination given by the Insurance Commission and can now be ushered into the world of insurance agents and hustling and bustling. That made me uncomfortable and I told Nannette so.
Okay, I still had the image of the feisty, persistent, pesky seller of insurance who does not really explain or understand what he sells, does not hear the word “no”, does not stick around through the bad times (when the hapless insured can no longer pay the premiums), is just “interested” because of the commission he hopes to get.
I did not want to be that person.
Abundance
I remember tikoy (Chinese New Year’s cake made of glutinous rice) and my dad dipping it in just-beaten egg yolks and egg whites, frying it on the pan until it gets golden brown all throughout. We would gather round the table and get it from the plate while it is still hot, our hands getting sticky and oily and sticky again, while our tongues seek and taste the gooey center where the goodness is until there is no more.