Thug Lyfe

A coldfront has wafted into Houston, dropping the temperatures into the 40’s. However, if you were to ask Inang, she would insist that Houston was experiencing subzero climates, “so don’t forget to wear your bonnet.”

In preparation for bed tonight (and in anticipation of an arctic chill), Inang wrapped a pink handkerchief around her neck to keep her throat warm. When I checked on her before bed, I couldn’t suppress my giggles and literally LOL’ed at the sight.

Behold, Inang the Bandit.

I explained to her that one might describe her as “thugged out,” which was a statement that was completely lost on her. She did, however, grasp this directive fully:

“Make your scariest, most menacing face EVER. No, no smiling. SCARY, Inang.”


“Pick up after yourself, or I will shank you.”

Nervousing

I thought you were asleep.
I cannot sleep. I’m nervous.
Nervous? Why?
My heart cannot stop beating. It’s beating fast. I just keep thinking.
What are you thinking about?
My life.
What about your life?
That I might die.
No way. You’re still going to live a very long time.
(pauses) I’m just nervous. I cannot stop nervousing.
What are you so worried about?
What if I wake up in the night, and I cannot walk to the commode?
That doesn’t mean you’re about to die. That just means you need to wake me up when you wake up so I can help you. Do you want me to sleep in your bed with you tonight?
No, not anymore.
Then how can I help you?
(contemplates silently, then smiles) Maybe you could massage my knees.
(complying, begins massaging)
(sighs with relief) Ay, thank you. But you know, I really cannot stop nervousing… You could massage my feet also?

Practice Makes Perfect

Ever since Inang mastered YouTube two days ago, she has moved onto word processing.

She said she had been napping, but decided to wake up and work on her typing. “Because I have to learn. I have to learn my typing.”

If only we all woke up with that type of determination to tackle our challenges. 86 years old, and my Inang has more drive than some twenty-somethings I know.

Breaking News: Inang Attacked By Killer Rascals

Every day, I notice the fur babies mimicking me more and more. I don’t know if it’s because imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I think it’s really that they think they are more and more human as the days go by.

Brodie has always wanted to hop in bed with me, my sister, my parents, Inang, really whomever. If my nieces are watching cartoons in my room and sitting on the bed, he’ll want to hop up right next to them.

Lucie, on the other hand, is extremely independent and will not be forced to do anything she doesn’t want to do. She prefers to sleep alone, so imagine my surprise a few weeks ago when she started to hop up on the bed alongside her little big brother. She’s really becoming a Fortin!

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But Inang, I want to cuddle with you, too!

Tonight, both Brodie and Lucie wanted to warm the night’s chill in Inang’s bed with me. And they were so, so happy she let them. Inang, on the other hand…

“I don’t like…”

“Lucie, come over here!”

“I don’t like when Lucie kiss me like that.¬†When we are watching with Uncle George, she come upstairs because she hear the rain.”

[Lucie barks]

[Inang laughs and imitates]

“She’s doing that because you’re doing like that to her. That’s why she barks. But this one [Brodie] is good. Lucie will kiss me like that, and I don’t like.”

“Sorry Inang. But you love Lucie right?”

“I like Brodie. Brodie is quiet.”

“But you love Lucie right?”

“I love Lucie, but when she kiss me like that, I don’t like. I don’t like kiss-kissing like that.”

“But what about me? What if I kiss you like that?”

[KISS ATTACK!]

She didn’t respond to my question, but I got all the reassurance I needed in her laughter.

Oh, how I love her laughter.