Oh yes, the baon/ lunch box prep was just as it is: happy hassle. In the midst of all the rush that mornting of firsts, I was brought back to my own early gradeschool days where everyone was so busy preparing to leave the house and go about their day's mindings. My sister, me, and my youngest brother - bustling for school, while Daddy and Mommy- off to work too. The small house where we lived in becomes this small factory of busy housemates walking to and fro, either to the cramped bathroom, or to the tiny kitchen beside it.
Juan Tenorio's voice and his entire morning program booming in the background was an indispensable morning ritual for our parents. This includes listening to the day's public service programs to the blotters, the music aaand, the birthday greetings part. Consequently, we grew up sort of memorizing the radio program's music and even station ID down to the very last note (toinks!) --- oh and yes, they become our day's Last Song Syndrome often times. A morning without the program in the background felt like, to me today, a day without coffee!
My task back then was packing in our baons. I remember preparing 4 lunchboxes, the fourth belonging to my mom's. Lucky Daddy he has his lunch covered at the office where he worked loyally for so many years (until now). I would scoop rice onto a lunch box and ask that owner whether the rice was enough. It seems to me, since then, I have seemingly mastered each and everyone's serving.
And as I look at it now, I smile at the fact that here I am again into this packing thing, with an added twist --- no longer for my sister and brother but now for My Kid. I don't just pack em, but I also have to decide on what to pack. I realized how hard and arduous it must have been with my own mom waking up every morning deciding and preparing the day's meals for everyone. The difference now is that I am yet to be employed. Back then, both mom and dad were working, our Aunt who would baby sit us have gone back home. There was even no fridge in the house. It all had to be just as exact for the day's consumption. I have a renewed appreciation for my Mom's efforts for us. It was noooo joke!
Now, at least I have a fridge around to store whatever it is to keep from spoiling. My kid has got better "tupperwares" for his lunch. WHile the cooking part is indispensable, I have yet to see how I'd fare by the time my employment training starts in July.
For now, I do enjoy this pretty morning hassle ritual. While a different yet modern radio station plays in the background, to me, the sounds of my gradeschool morning years ring in my mind -- like a parallel universe thing. It keeps me sane. It keeps me connected to the love my Mom and Dad have for us. The same love I would like my kid to feel and keep with him as he grows.
Now everything that's electrically "On" is turned off. The house gets dark. One final shut at the door, and everybody scampers up the stairs into the waiting car.The house is left all alone and silent. Off we go into the morning rush hour traffic. Day One almost complete. Welcome to My own First of Many Days to come.
P.S. .. If you're an eighties Baguio Kid, I'm sure you'd still recall Juan Tenorio's stand upper that goes "Talagah namaaaan, The bessssst! Hmmmm hmmm hmmm hmm hmm! Yeahhhh!" .and that "Happy Happy Happy Bertday" song. Dang, it hasn't left my memory. One shot at those nostalgic tunes -- and I'm young again.
Have a great day! =)
