Frowney

When I’m alone and not around people (obviously), my face relaxes. And when my face relaxes, it’s usually frowney. (Actually, I don’t think frowney’s a word, but if you’ve caught me relaxed, you’ll know what I mean.)

I hope it doesn’t mean that I’m a naturally gloomy person because I don’t feel the least bit gloomy.

Papa thought otherwise.

“Why are you always frowning? Smile more!” he commanded, and I plastered a big, toothy grin for his benefit.

“Are you having trouble about love?” he asked.

Actually, at that very moment, I was ironing the clothes while watching a very interesting episode of House. And I was wearing this really big headset. So no. At that time, I wasn’t really worrying about my lovelife.

But my papa begged to disagree. And so he launched into his “preaching mode” and I had to respectfully listened while feeling just a wee bit annoyed because I wanted to watch House and iron clothes in peace.

“You should be glad we’re here to guide you,” Papa said. “When I was growing up, nobody gave us advice.”

I was naturally chastised. And a little ashamed of myself. (Two days in a row, now!) My father’s mother died at a young age and my paternal grandfather (not the one who had his birthday recently) was an alcoholic who was a pro in child abuse. (I think he changed a little when his children all grew up. Ummm… I think.)

After the preaching, Papa served us “champorado” and that made me feel more inclined to smile. But then he started lecturing on how our lifestyle of drinking too much softdrinks and eating too much sugary stuff was bound to make us diabetic. He told us how important it was to keep healthy. I listened respectfully but I think his lecture would have been a little more effective if he had been slightly more sober. (He was a bit tipsy, hence the preachy mode).

So the moral of my story is: Smile.

:)