Subscribe News Feed Subscribe Comments

Mom's Cellphone

I used to love playing with my mother’s cellphone for two reasons:

     1.       She always bought herself top-of-the-line Nokia units, and
     2.       She never really knew how to use them. (And didn’t really care.)

Secretly lamenting over the fact that I couldn’t spend cheese on myself that time, I always found myself borrowing her cellphone and tinkering away on the gadget like it was mine. This happened almost everyday when we went to visit the parentals in Chile, and couldn’t watch anything understandable on cable TV. Even watching the muy guapito Enrique Iglesias clone take out the trash every other day got boring.

Anyway, back to mom’s cellphone. I was most proud of filling her phone gallery with pictures of hot, half- naked Asian men in jest –  if only to hear her giggling in the other room four days later and squealing “Ang laki naman!” (“It’s so big!”).

Next thing I knew, this was her wallpaper:

So proud of her... *tear*

Ofcourse this was all supposed to be one of those little inside jokes between the two of us. I didn’t really anticipate occasions where my 5’1” sweet-looking  old mother would bring her cellphone to the nearest mall, in need of assistance when she didn’t know how to insert her new sim-card.

Accompanying her to a cellular shop, I kept a steady eye on the Spanish attendant as my mom handed the phone over to him. Having waited impatiently for his reaction, I burst into laughter when I finally saw it. It was priceless. His serious veneer suddenly relaxed to belt out a big cackle. He immediately tapped his colleague on the shoulder and showed him my mom’s wallpaper. Mr. Colleague laughed as well, exposing the gap between his front two teeth which made me laugh even more.

(Shut up. As if you’re so nice.)

Then my mother teasingly said, “Mi novio es guapo, noh?" (“Isn’t my boyfriend handsome?”)


So you see, I loved borrowing my mother’s phone. And here's my third and final reason:

     3. She always had the most vibrant and playful spirit.


Post a Comment

Optimistically Disenchanted | TNB