Hair color

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I haven't done a proper blog entry on Valentine's Day1. Let me share a brief episode in the life of my favorite couple in the world. It's one of those times when my parents misunderstand each other, usually about insignificant things, and their reactions are quite amusing.

I called home and asked my father what he did today2.

"I went to KCC (the local grocery store) to buy hair dye for your mother, as she had requested, but when I got to the clinic, the secretary informed me she was already in the parlor, having her hair dyed."

"You know how Nanay is too picky when it comes to these things," I said.

"I know—but she should've told me, so I didn't have to spend money."

"At least you have an entire bottle all to yourself, Tay."

"You're right. It can last me months."



1. I invite you to read last year's February 14 entry, in which I wrote about—guess what—my parents.

2. We speak Ilonggo (Hiligaynon) at home. I have to make this clear, lest I make the impression that we talk like grammar-conscious American book characters.

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