My dad used to spank me and my sister with his ultra-leather belt when we were still dumb kids and dad didn't have to go abroad to work. He usually did this because we slacked off and acted like normal 1st-grade and kindergarten kids which he doesn't find amusing at all. So we studied our asses off because we don't want them to be whacked, if not beaten to death. I can't even imagine my ass being dead or something. How the hell would I sit down? I'll be like that lady in the Tyra show who's suffering from OCD and claims that she can't sit on a friggin chair and she had to bawl it all in front of the whole world.
I remember that day when my first grade teacher handed me this pink card that says 'Third Honor', and I thought I'm in for a big trouble (read: spank mania) because I thought that honor means horror, for I probably mixed up the stupid meanings because of my addiction to Ted Failon's public service television show back then that I sure can't remember. That show had horror and honor lists of whatever things people encounter everyday, and I really don't know why the hell it's still stuck in me up to this day.
So yeah, after receiving the card, I tucked it inside my most useless notebook ever (CL, by the way), because I don't want my grandfather nor my father to actually see it. I thought that I might lose my precious ass to my father's belt if I would let them see the pink card.
As luck would have it, my grandfather found the friggin card while I was playing Dance Dance Revolution in my father's room. He shouted my name for me to go down and probably explain what did I do bad again. And unsurprisingly, he asked me why I was only able to get a Third Honor. I thought to myself, 'Wait, there's much worse than this?'. I mean, come on now. That's the stupidest thing I've ever thought of. I really can't remember what I retorted back to grandpa. Be it a mumble of a kiddie curse, or a groan or whatever, it's all warped by past per se and I can't do anything to bring it back(except of course to let my big body be warped).
Come night time of the very same day, I slept waay way early because I don't want my dad to bring about his magical belt of death. The day was already about to end and I still didn't know what the heck that pink card is for and why did my teacher gave it to me, among her 49 students. My plan worked out nicely, and I didn't even get to see dad when I woke up the next morning. Mom said he already left for work and he left me something which he placed on top of the television. And shining atop the television set was a crisp 100-peso bill.
My dad just gave me a reward for being a Third Horror.
I can't believe the freaking logic.
No comments:
Post a Comment