The rest of the family has gone to Bacolod as part of the “post-graduation tour” while I’m stuck in front of my PC, wondering why my room has suddenly become as hot as a teapot. Tita Mimi, one of my mother’s closest friends back in dental school, has invited them and offered to tour them around the island. I’ve been receiving SMS’s from my brothers who told me the moment their ship had arrived that they absolutely like the place and that they’ve been properly accommodated. I can only surmise that their stomachs are now full of chicken inasal, which is a delicious Bacolod specialty.
And the reason why I’m writing this?
This is the second time I’ve been left behind. The SECOND. The first time was two years ago when they went to Manila. I was in Iloilo then, participating in some contest, while they were all strolling around the polluted streets of the capital. When we had all gone home from the places we had been to, my brothers were all talking about what they did there and the things they saw in such and such a place.
But I’m not bitter. Really.
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