Unlike our last weekend, we wake up rather early this Sunday hoping to still catch some rays. Our little munchkin is again flashing his toothless smile and we just need to celebrate. His fever has subsided, his stuffy nose about to clear up. Oh, thank you, dear Lord.
Everybody has his quick bath. We need to be at the school by 9 am to get the boys’ report card. Big Bunso is the most excited of all, as he anticipates to still be on top of his class.
Much to his delight, Big Bunso remains grade four’s top 1. His happiness is so contagious that even the school’s lady guard and maintenance personnel are so happy for him. However, inasmuch as I would like to be all smiley and happy, I could feel second son’s frustration. After looking at the bulletin board, he prefers to be alone and skids outside.
He used to see his name on top of the list. This time though, he slides to rank four.
Nonetheless, this still calls for a celebration. Placing fifth overall among about fifty grade six students is still an achievement.
After a few talks with the boys’ classroom adviser and teachers, we walk towards the park. The boys, however, forgot their basketball so we just pass through the place and walk further.
We, especially the boys, always enjoy our walks, may they be long or otherwise. Perhaps the boys’ intense longing for a conversation with their parents makes our walks worthwhile. We tend to talk about almost anything from earth science to inventions, movies to food, or politics to sports.
We reach our favorite neighborhood cafe by 10:30 am. For over 14 years since we moved in at our place, it has been for the past five years only that diners, convenience stores, and services like laundry, pet grooming, and salons, begin to sprout all over the place– signs of development, the husband would often say. And that includes our favorite diner.
Though everybody is hungry and looking forward to that sumptuous treat, we eat at a leisurely pace, perhaps everybody would want to savor each meal and take part in the family chitchat.
The boys would want the ice cream to cap off the celebration, but their parents suggest that we drop by the nearest 7-11 to buy a gallon of ice cream instead.
It’s almost past one in the afternoon when we reach the small house. The celebration continues as each partakes of the mug-full ice cream offered to all.
Our little munchkin’s triumph over his flu and cough and his two kuya’s school achievement may be too small a thing to mark, but we celebrate still because little victories like these, when added up, may someday be big successes.
Inches make champions.
– Vince Lomardi