Leia is of course the one of my three children who, aside from having been born in August and an adventurous person like your Isinay Bird, probably inherited most of my writing genes too and, as a cum laude graduate of BS in Development Communication at UP Los Banos, is the one who has held fort, as it were, in my aborted high school dream to be a journalist. (But that's another story for another post in this blogsite.)
Sensing her uneasy excitement, I put down my coffee mug and fired back this text message right away:
Not contented, I followed my text with another: Mabuti cguro samahan kayo ng organizer para magcourtesy call sa mayor. Ganyan kc kaparanoid ang ibang tao.
Leia's reply: kinausap na nga ng organizer e. hatid sundo pa nya kami.
Normally, when my coffee turned cold, I would add hot water to it and a half-teaspoon of Nescafe. But this time I just finished what was left in my UNICEF mug, opened my laptop, and began writing this piece.
But while adjusting my seat and selecting what phrases to use, I heard my wife (who I told earlier about Leia's news) reading aloud the text she received herself from our daughter. I told her (my wife) to forward me the text exchanges, so here's their back and forth, as dictated for my typing by Haina Fiadchongan:
Mommy: Scoop na headlyn sa midland! Mga nmundok na media ginawang front ng pulis para kunyari may npasurender na NPA. WAHAHAHA
Leia: hahaha tagatagalog kaya tong pulis sa next rum. wag nga sila. minmuli.
Mommy: Hinde border ang pulis nayan, SPY. INGAT KAU.
Leia: hahaha engot nga spy. eto open ko door para makita nila na nagjujudge aq ng papers hindi aq npa.
Indeed, what happened to my daughter brought a flashflood of memories not only of the term NPA but also of those unforgettable adventures I had some years ago in the countryside.
(to be continued)