One New Message

Fiction by | March 31, 2013

“Teka. Wait. Ka-text ko pa si Mama…”

Every time I hear those words, I instantly remember my high school days.

Back then, when I said said such a line, especially in front of my barkada, they would immediately assume that I was a mama’s boy. Often, this would be followed by a series of I-have-an-overly-protective-mother jokes. They put on high-pitched voices and went: “’Nak, kumain ka na?” “Yung likod mo baka basa. Magbihis ka na.” and “May pulbos ka d’yan sa bag mo. Ipinasok ka kagabi habang natutulog ka.”

In high school, I recalled that I raged against my mother when she snooped in my email account. I was irritated when she kept asking about my whereabouts, who I hung out with, and if I would have dinner with the rest of the family. Her questions would always be followed by her imperative need to know what time I would be home.

I grudged against her every time this happened. Sometimes, it left me wondering when I would actually be allowed to make decisions of my own and finally exercise my God-given free will. Thoughtlessly, I often ignored my mother’s text messages and even refused to answer her calls, just for the heck of it.

But that was before. In a span of just over 6 months, things have changed drastically and guess what?

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