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Why is the seventh birthday so important? I’ll never fully understand the why of it, and I decided to be quite and go along with.
It’s Mid September sitting at my kitchen, and those discussing the planned party are, 1 Great Grandmother, 2 Grandmothers, 1 Mother, 1 Grand Daughter (soon to be seven) Plus 1 Father, and not to be left out, me the Grandfather. (In the dining room and living room, were assorted Aunts, Uncles and cousins not involved in the planning, but voting present) I admire you folks, who are taking the time to learn the local language, yet once in awhile it’s a blessing to be ignorant of what’s being said, and believe me this was one of those times.
Chris (my son-in-law) feeling sorry for me, disappeared and returned with a frosty bottle of, San Magoo Beer. (You knew that was coming!) Then came the important part, the plans are set, all goes quiet, all brown eyes are peering into the blue eyes that my folks burdened me with, and for the first time that evening English was spoken and I was informed that my part was P24,500.00.
Now I knew why my beer was never empty, and I just agreed. The party was set for October 3rd (made sense, as it was the Childs birthday) the Sunday before the big event we must go to SM Mall in San Fernando. From my house in Bataan, it’s an hour drive. 9 am with my wife and I, birthday girl and her parents in the car, we’re on the way. In Lubou the traffic is very heavy and a truck hits my Honda on the rear left door and fender well, and sails off down the road.
Panic ensues, I’m instructed to race after the truck, and find a policeman, and to stop and inspect the damage. I just want to get out of this traffic and go to the mall. The truck is gone, the police have the day off (It was a Sunday) and I’ll check the car at the mall, as it was driving just fine. Why had I not followed all the great advice I’d received? The truck was long gone and if I had caught up with it the driver would deny, deny, and deny again. The police, if I could have found one would have keep me for an hours or more filling out paperwork, and answering questions that I could not answer. Like, what’s the name of the other driver? Who owned the truck, where was the truck purchased? I think you get the drill.
Now we’re at the mall, birthday presents in tow heading to my car, when my wife informs me my granddaughter was in a Barbie fashion show and would be done sometime after 2pm. I smile; I wait, because it’s what grandfathers do. Return trip to my house and a well deserved cold beer. Hitting 50 MPH, left front wheel hit a pothole the size of a crater on the moon, and blows the tire off the rim. Son-in-Law changes the tire, and at 6pm I’m safe at home. Cold beer at the ready!
The shopping at the mall P7, 000.00, the new tire P2, 700.00, bodywork and paint on the car P5, 500.00, then there’s the original cost of the party, the look in my granddaughters eyes the night of the party! Absolutely, positively priceless! I’d do it all again.