yesterday morning, i was roused out of sleep by a rather noisy attempt at opening my door. it was 9:30 a.m., and i was thinking, still half-asleep, had my sister forgotten something so important? she had turned off the light before she left an hour earlier, and sunlight streaming in was filtered blue.
and so. the door opened, "soft blue sunshine" became extreme amounts of midmorning sunlight flooding in through the gap, and i nearly fell off the bed upon hearing my aunt say, "sabi ko sayo daddy, may tao pa eh!"
my father came in, rather cautiously. by instinct, i sat up, pulled my hair into a hasty ponytail, straightening my shirt and rubbing the sleep off my eyes.
"your room smells a whole lot better now," i heard him say, matter-of-factly.
to backtrack a little: a couple of weeks ago, on ninoy aquino day, i received a rather angry text message from auntie, via dad's phone, admonishing me for the stale cigarette smell in our room. i had opted not to say anything back to avoid discussion.
well. let's just say... to say that 'i wanted to kill myself that night' wouldn't exactly be a metaphor.
anyhoo. my father, commenting about the smell of our room. i yawned, pointing to a contraption i call my new scent-support-system sitting by the door.
"ah," my father nodded. at this point in time, he had already found my almost empty cigarette pack by the laptop. i tried my hardest not to make a face.
it's funny i only get to see the two most important members of my family on surprise raids like this. i remember the look on my father's face upon examining the pack i had left carelessly on the table -- a cross between amused and unimpressed, a look only my father could ever successfully pull off.
well, i just thought to myself, there are a lot of other more incriminating circumstances to be caught in, aren't you thankful you're not in one this morning?"
hmm, put that way, i guess so, yeah.