Birthday Boy

Nearly twelve years ago, a little doggie was born. He was very very large for his breed and got his name precisely because of this odd characteristic. He was from Subic Pampanga and was born under Tita Shirley's care. He was brought home by Mom, to a very unwelcoming group. He entered through the front door, wriggled and squirmed. He faced his disapproving audience and melted a heart.

Lynette, who waiting on the stairs laid her eyes on the wriggling bit of a thing, and laid claim to him.

"MINE!"

And that's how the story started.

Shamu was sweet. He was also a sleepy head. He would wake up in Lynette's room every morning, scratch the door to be let out, thus waking Lynette.( He did this so many times that the bottom part of the door he used to scratch had 1/3 of the door torn off from his repeated scratching)

Lynette would get up and let him out. Lynette would then prepare to go off to school mistakenly believing that Shamu was off to roam for the day. Shamu though, had better ideas. Once he gets the door open, he saunters over into either my or Eric's room, whichever still had the aircon on, and jumps on the bed and goes back to sleep.

Apparently, he considered being Lynette's alarm clock his only "real" job. Since he had already done his one duty for the day, he can now just go back to bed.

He was very mild tempered. People could squish him and bug him and he'd flick his ears at them or just look resignedly at the antics of the five people who usually did the bugging. Personally, I loved blowing on his head. He'd try to tolerate it at first, then gets irritated and scratches whatever part I blew on. I start laughing and he looks up at me with a weary stare. If I persist, I'd get growled at and snapped at (never for real though.)

Finally, seeing that he can't stop my bugging him, he'd get up and stalk off.

Come to think of it...that reminds me of someone else who gets easily pissed when being bugged.

Care to take a guess?

You know what they say about pets and their owners....

...or in this case, their "mommies"

He was also a true Reyes. he loved, loved, loved food. He would eat very quickly. He liked ice cream and iced water. He got so fat and tubby that the vet had to ask Lynette to get him low fat dog food. He didn't appreciate it much and everyone, taking pity on him, would toss bits of meat to him underneath the table during dinner.

His special treat was roast beef and steak bones which had to be secretly given to him. Usually because Mom and I liked those bits especially. Ma and I are big bone gnawers.

Occasionally, his instincts would kick in. He loved to watch out for mice. He was a good mouse catcher (which Lynette had major objections to) but since he usually just "watched," and occasionally barked, at the mice, there was usually no problem. However, every so often, Lynette would suddenly start screaming, and you could guess exactly what has happened.

He was a homebody. When he really wanted some peace and quiet, he'd get into Dad's room and jump on Dad's bed. Dad would come home and find him right smack at the center of his bed and would yell for Lynette to get him out of there.

When everyone was out of the house though, and when all the bedroom doors were closed, he would lay on the cool marble floor and just doze away. He would basically go outside only when taking care of his "necessities" and to mark everything a "his" by basically peeing on everything.

He would greet everyone enthusiastically when we came home jumping up and down, panting and snorting, and then escort everyone to their bedroom. He seemed to have a sixth sense when someone would come home.

If he happened to be in your room when he thinks someone is at the front door, He would politely "ask" to be let out.

He was relatively patient asking too. He would first LOOK at the door. Just look. He would look at the door, then at you, then back at the door. Doggie sign language you might say.

If you didn't get the message, he'd scratch at the door. Just once, then he would peer at you to see if you got the message, then a few more times. If there is still no response, he would scold you for your inattention. He would give you one very loud bark, again, just one.

Finally, in realizing you probably became temporarily deaf, he would frantically scratch at the bottom of the door in hopes of someone on the other side of it would hear him and open the door for him.

It was really funny to watch.

He really loved us though. He made sure that everyone was safe in bed at night (he actually made rounds) and so, he was traumatized when we left for Europe for a month. He watched us leave, and for thirty days, he waited for us without fail. He stayed near the front door all day and night, watching for us to return. Whenever he would hear a car pass by, his would lift up his head with hope gleaming from his eyes, only to realize, it wasn't us.

He became visibly depressed after a while.

When we finally came home, his greeting was rapturous, He ran from person to person, giddy with delight. Jumping and kissing, he ran around in circles looking like a mini tornado in his exhilaration.

For days he greeted us this way when we came home for the night.

After a while he seemed to readjust okay.

Only, since then, whenever a suitcase was brought out for whatever reason, he would look sad and would sniffle at us...as if looking for reassurance that we would return home.

At some point, his age started to show. His leg, which he broke years before, kept hurting him. He would bravely hobble about but he could no longer jump on the bed. His heart was bothering him and he was now usually found at the foot of the bed rather than on top it. He was so very stoic and uncomplaining despite his difficulties.

He died last August 9.

This May 31 would have been his twelfth birthday It would be my 34th. After eleven really good years, I'm no longer sharing my birthday with Lynette's baby.

We'll really miss him.

Tayo na sa Antipolo

Antipolo Cathedral

Every May, we used to go all the way up to the Antipolo Cathedral.

Actually, just to be truthful you know? Mama had to lug us kicking and screaming (not to loud though or else we'd get pinched) to Antipolo City.

May is the festival month where everyone would go on pilgrimage to see the Birhen ng Antipolo, more formally known as Our Lady of Peace and Good Voyage.

It was said that the statue helped travelers be safe in their journeys.

So every May, (and every single time Dad would go abroad), we would trek on to Antipolo to celebrate Sunday Mass, pray in devotion to the Virgin, as well as for safety when traveling abroad (whenever it applied)

The problem though, was that every single May, everyone else would also be there and the place would be teeming with people. It got very hot, and crowded, and one wrong step and you would spend the rest of the mass trying to find where everyone else has gotten to.

To prevent this, the "buddy system" was upheld every single time. Usually I would be "buddies" with Jo Ann and Eric would "buddy" with Mom. Sometimes, when I was fighting with her, it would get problematic. When Dad yelled "buddy system,"(which happened as soon as we were parked and the door was opened to let us out) I'd grab at Eric as my buddy. This never worked out very well since Eric always went with Mom anyway and if I had "buddied" with him, I would have gotten stuck with Mom and would not have been able to freely walk about. Also, Eric had a tendency to get lost. If I was his "buddy" when this happened, I would be in trouble. So unless I was really really mad to Jo Ann, I was stuck with her. The alternative was pretty boring. I'd only do it to spite her anyway. If I "buddied" with Eric, she'd get stuck "buddying" with Mama. You should know by now how that would go.

Early on, when I was just old enough to be left alone without adults always holding my hand, I got into a bit of a situation. Upon entering through the gates, I was surrounded by a lot of women. They crowded me, pushing and shoving. One woman pinned a cardboard medallion onto my shirt then asked me for a "donation." I told her I didn't want the medal and as I unpinned it, she said it would be an affront to the Virgin if I declined her "gift." Feeling intimidated, I emptied my wallet of the money I had (all of twenty pesos) and gave it to her.

Eventually, I found out that all this was a trick to get my money. The next year, I was a bit older and wiser. I gave my wallet to Jo Ann to gain safe passage through the gate. When I passed the gates, I was again assaulted by various women brandishing medallions. When they asked for the "donation," I could truthfully say I had no money on me. They would then take back the medallion and go on their way.

That year, as I proudly got through unaccosted, I waited at the front door to meet up with Jo Ann. After a few moments, she met me there, gave me my wallet and said " I owe you twenty pesos" when I asked why, she replied, "because there were these ladies at the gate...."

Later, we found that the best way to safely pass through the gates was to wait aside for a minute until another person passes through the gates. The women then would converge on the poor person leaving the gate unobserved. At this point, Jo Ann and I can freely go through to the church unmolested.

After entering the church and after hearing Mass among droves of people, we used to go and line up to see the Virgin up close and personal. I never really understood this. But since Mama was going, we went along for the ride. It was a strange thing, you line up, you step forward every couple of minutes, you climb up a wooden staircase, pass alongside the wall. You step forward a bit more, and on one portion of the wall, you can view the back of the Virgin. You keep stepping forward until you're out of the building again. If you weren't paying attention (like me), you'd completely miss it.

Most of the time, instead of looking at the back of the Virgin, I just realize that I'm up high, near the ceiling, and right above the altar. I see that there is a gap in the space where the virgin is, and the wall of her cubicle. So, when we get to the virgin, instead of praying, I'd peer down though the gap between the virgin and the wall, to scan below for people I knew. Then barely a second passes, and I'm past the Virgin and am now in a line to get out of the building.

Another feature that was a must during this festival was the purchasing of Kasuy. Papa loved Kasuy. It used to come in these brown paper bags, all warm and nutty smelling. One bag would always be opened for eating and another one would be all wrapped up closed for later. It was really good. Papa would take home quite a lot. It was such a tradition that to this day cashews, any kind, even if it came in a can, would always remind me of Antipolo.

Outside the church, there would be all sorts of things to see. There were candles in the shape of the Virgin Mary or sometimes, in the shape of a cross. They had various colors to it. I remember asking why but the explanation came out all confusing. Such and such shape meant this and such and such color would be for that. It sounded like witchcraft-y spells so I never tried it.

For us kiddies though. Mommy used to buy us these mini terra cotta pots and burners. For playing house with. They were very sweet but they lasted only for a short while. Little kiddie hands can be very clumsy you know.

It such a pity they are no longer available though. The last time I saw them sold was the time Mom bought them for us, only, the really tiny ones were not available. So she bought ones that were just a little larger than we used to have.

Juliet, Mely, Maritess, Otel and Gloria decided to go ahead and play with them one day.

I caught them in the corner of Nini's terrace all huddled together and giggling. As I approached I saw that they were cooking. The little terracotta stove was all aglow with teeny coal and bits of dried wood. Upon it was a covered pot witch held a teeny portion of boiled rice all bubbling and steaming. They had a little bit of meat all prepared and they reheated it atop the pot which held the nearly cooked rice. After the cooking was done, they used banana leaves as plates and they ate the rice as well as the meat for merienda.

It was sooo cool.

The next time we went I went looking for the terracotta pots and pans but they were never to be found again.

Hmmm. On the other hand. it has been twenty years. Maybe they are available again.... I wonder who I can finagle to go there and take a look?

After all it is May...(hint. hint)

Tayo na sa Antipolo
at doo'y maligo tayo
sa batis na kung tawagin
ay Hi-hi-hinulugang Taktak
at doo'y kumain
ng mangga
kasuy at balimbing
kaya't magmadali ka at
tayo ay sumama sa Antipolo.

Santacruzan

(Boom-boom and Me)

May is the time for the Flores de Mayo and the Santacruzan.

Short lesson....

The month of May signals the start of Flores de Mayo. Young people offer flower garlands to the Virgin Mary all through the month. At the end of the month, there is a procession of young women who represent the titles of the Virgin Mary ( you know, like in the litany?) and at the end of the procession, there is a woman representing St. Helena (who is credited with finding the cross of Jesus Christ) along with a young boy representing St. Helena's son, Constantine ( who became Emperor of Rome and made Christianity the official religion of Rome). After them comes a large float holding a statue of the Virgin Mary.

Anyway, I explain this because May in the year I turned 15, I was asked to be part of the Santacruzan procession. Mom's Aunts in Bulacan decided to enter me in their Santacruzan programme. It was a bit strange because they did not follow "rules" and so, instead of titles of the Virgin Mary, they just basically wrote Reyna followed by our own names.

I don't know why.

Anyway, Mom was so excited. So was Tita Virgie. As soon as the invitation was offered, they started looking around for gowns and all sorts of stuff that we were going to need.

You know, stuff that would make me Oh-So-Glamorous...

Tita Virgie was once Reyna Elena in this same town. It was years and years ago and she remembers it fondly. Tatay, who had been very strict, had to be bamboozled into thinking she was somewhere else just so Nanay and her sisters could take Tita Virgie away to Bulacan for the procession.

We went around the town and found a place where people could rent ball gowns. I saw this really nice white and silver trimmed gown, floor length, with great big puffed sleeves. (Anne Shirley of Green Gables would have been envious)

It fit surprisingly well the first fitting that we agreed that this was the gown I would wear for the event.

We then proceeded to look for the jewelry to match. You know. The tiara and everything...

(Hmmm. I just realized I am one of a very select group of people who have worn an actual tiara in an actual event. Yeah, it was on loan and made of crystals rather than diamonds but still...)

So I had my tiara, my matching dangling earrings, my necklace, bracelet and ring. All that, and one more thing I really loved wearing.

Mama's long white gloves.

She had a pair. Who would have thought? I had no idea why she had them, she just did. She didn't explain why she had them neither. I just loved thinking of what possible events she went to, to have need of a pair of elbow length white gloves. It had a bit of a lace trim at the end and was a bit too tight for me but it was still very cool. Very Old World-y.

(Tita Virgie, Me and Eric peeking out from behind us)

The day of the event, I had to get my face on, my hair done and had to pick up my poor escort who had to walk with me the two entire kilometers from the beginning to the end of the procession.

Mom was so hyped up...she even asked Tito Tony for the loan of this big portable spotlight/flashlight that I think was meant to be used under water...you know, when scuba diving. It was really glaringly bright.

So we started walking.

It was kind of strange, walking, with spotlights on you, smiling and waving at strangers. We walked through a very dark road bordered by large fields on both sides. People were all along the deserted road watching and waving, and occasionally cheering when they saw a familiar neighbor or relative all dressed up.

I had a couple of cousins who walked alongside me, who would point out various members of our family. People I've barely met who are so happy to have me be part of the procession.

But you know the saying...."It's hard to be beautiful?"

It applies to every single person on display that night.

(The Procession)

Do you know what happens in a very large dark place lit by a very bright light?

Think about it. It's pitch black and spooky, and you are in a large open field in the middle of the night.

Only, in this sea of darkness, there is an extremely bright light all glowing and shiny.

Given that you're not having a near death experience, what else goes towards the light?

Yep! That's right.

Bugs.

(swishing for bugs)

Hundreds of them...all buzzing, creeping, and flying, up, around, and on my brightly lit and glowing, white dress.

I spent nearly all of the two kilometers we had to walk, twirling about trying to get the bugs off of me.

I'm really not the sort that creeps out easily so when I mean a lot of bugs, I mean a lot of bugs.

Grasshoppers, moths, roaches, loads of others...insects I don't even know the names for.

I'm telling you...I was so glad that I was wearing a floor length dress and gloves to boot. I felt really sorry for the ladies who had spaghetti straps and mid-length dresses on. Can you imagine?

But of course, we could not ruin the process and so we just kept on walking and smiling and trying to unobtrusively flick bugs away.

Two kilometers never seemed so far.

At the end of the of the procession, I ran straight into my Tita's house to take my dress off. I took off the gown and shook off all the creepy crawlies that were able to get into my dress. (Eewe!)

It was an experience never to be forgotten...

Never again will I look at a Santacruzan the same way. Each and every May that passes, year after year. I will probably never again see another procession without thinking that swarms of insects are on its way to join in on the parade.

Kotse-kotsehan

My very first memory involving a vehicle was playing on this old green jeep with ran like a bike...on chains and a pedal. I distinctly remember being in Mama's yard in her Buencamino house and the jeep was broken. I remember turning it over to "see" what was under the "hood." I guess this was imitated behavior from seeing Mang Pilo and other men fixing cars by peering under its hood.

So there I was looking under the "hood" of the jeep to find that the chain had been disconnected from the gears. I remember trying to pull on the back into its proper place and my hands becoming all dirty and black from grease. I somehow managed it though and I remember being sooo proud of myself.

Even now, I'm proud of myself for that. I was only three or four years old then you know.

Other memories involve Mom and Dad who used to take us on long night drives. Every so often they would just bundle me up, along with Jo Ann and Eric, and off we would go. A lot of times, we wouldn't even know where we were going. On Christmas Eve we would go from house to house delivering presents. Sometimes we would go very far and wide only to end up in this hole in the wall nipa styled restaurant in Cavite just to eat inihaw na baboy and kandule. One time, when Dad's new maroon Nissan Stanza was delivered, he got all excited and decided that we should all take it out for it's first run.We went to UP Village and drove around and around the Quezon City Memorial Circle before going back home again.

Dad would also sing as he drove. Just a lot of really silly songs. Abba dabba Honeymoon, Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah, There's a Log in the Hole in the bottom of the Sea. and Down by the Old Mill Stream. As we got older we added Kookaburra and Down by the sea (where the watermelons grow) to the repertoire.

When we got older still, he started to sing the various songs of Frank Sinatra. He had bought this 5 cassette box set and played it over and over again. He sang along as it played. Later, he gravitated to Linda Ronstandt, some operatic singers and a lot of Broadway tunes. These days, it's usually Diana Krall.

Sometimes the kiddies at the backseat, us ,would just start chatting away (or occasionally, start fighting). Mostly we would just start talking with each other ...that is, until Dad yells "SPEAK IN ENGLISH" which would instantly result in shutting everyone up.

It's really hard to speak a foreign language fluently on demand. Try it. Speak in Spanish...right now.

We also would go to Mandaluyong to visit Nanay and my aunts and uncles. Tatay would then put us in his jeep and we, along with a gazillion other cousins who could squeeze in with us, would ride with Tatay to a gas station to fill up the jeep ...and then ride back home. My favorite seat was at the back, sitting on the tin seat that ran on both sides of the jeep. I liked sitting right near the bars so I could feel the wind blowing at me as we cruised along.

Tito Junior had once decided to fix up Mama and Papa's old Mercedes Benz which was parked in the area beside the bodega for a number of years. It used to be the car we drove to Baguio in...usually driven by Mang Pilo. I don't remember when he left but I guess he retired about the same time that Old Mercedes did.

Anyway, Tito Junior decided it had been sitting in "retirement" long enough and got it fixed. The first day it really started running, he decided to bring us to school in it. Carlos was in the front seat and everyone else seated at the back of the car. Somewhere between the house and the four blocks to JASMS, he had to press the horn on someone. The problem was, the horn got stuck and it started making periodic honks every other second. He couldn't fix it. It was funny in that we got a whole lot of dirty looks from people who felt unjustifiably "honked." at. We spent the rest of what seemed to be a long long trip miming apologies to people as Tito Jun takes his hands off the steering wheel to show he wasn't pressing on the horn. I think that car got re-retired again after that. Tito Jun got the beige Toyota Corolla instead.

I remember going on a trip with Tita Nini. We all were in a van with Rachel, me Jo Ann, Eric and Juliet. Somehow or other, Tita Nini got something spilled on the seat and it got her butt all wet. I remember she decided that the best way to dry the seat of her pants was to stick her butt out the window.

I recall it now in disbelief... She mooned everyone along the North Luzon Highway. I'm surprised we weren't arrested.

Then there was our suddenly transformed econovan which was embarrassingly painted yellow cab yellow. Every afternoon, as the van was used to pick us up from school, I could hear the whispered giggling of students who would point at our very brightly colored van. On the plus side, I could always tell right away if my ride was there. There was no need to go hunt for it from parking space to parking space. I could see the highlighted van from right outside my fourth floor classroom window.

I remember Tito Nonoy's old Rusty Red car, which was his first car and he didn't want to part with it. It was very old, and so rusty that it seemed to rain down bits of shrapnel when it passed you by. Juliet could not control herself and a little ditty would pop into her head each and every time she saw him and it together. She seemed unable to stop herself and she would start to sing....

" Ang kawawang cowboy....."

One day a few years back, when I was in med school, I was soo tired. It had been a long long 36 hour duty and I just wanted to be home. The next day was Sunday and was another duty day so I just really wanted some sleep. I managed to lug myself to my car, open the trunk. I was so happy to be finally free that in a great symbolic gesture of release, I threw all my stuff in.

I slammed the trunk shut and then....

"Where are my Keys?"

I had thrown them in with the rest of my stuff.

Grrr. I had to lug myself down to someone who could lend me the use of their phone. I called home and fortunately I caught a driver there as he was leaving. I had him get my spare key and 30 minutes later, I was finally driving myself back home.

Finally, I have a permanent remembrance of a car incident. There's this bluish bruise on my right cheek. This was because one day, I was standing between the car and the opened passenger door. We were in CCP Extension where we always stayed in wait for Mama to be ready to come home. One day, we waited a long time, only to find out Mama had a meeting and forgot to tell us that she was going home another way. We were told to go on along home and I was already getting impatient to leave but Lynette was buying something from the canteen. I started to hurry her up...yelling for her to get a move on.

I guess she got all flustered and she started running for the car. She had to get into the back seat, she saw the front passenger door, open barring her way, and slammed it shut.

WHAM!!

I got her so panicked she "forgot" that I was still standing right there.

The door hit my face and there a teeny blue bruise started to appear.

I have it still.

Oh well...Mea Culpa.

Merrily we go around

Enchanted Kingdom Carousel
...Over the years

Natasha 2005

Me and Laurie 2001

Lynette and Oui 2001

Eric and Oui 2001

Cristian and Jo Ann 1996

Which of these things is not like the other...

Family Picture

We used to tease each other that we were adopted.

No reason...just because.

Maybe we were bored, maybe we wanted to pick on each other, mostly because we were kids.... but every so often, one of us would tell another one of us, that they were adopted.

We didn't look alike after all. We all had varying degrees of lightness or darkness of skin coloring, different eyes, different face, different noses. People used to be surprised when they see us since we don't look like each other. About the only thing we had in common was our height and shoe size...give or take a half an inch.

I guess this started also because, for some reason, we never saw my mom in labor. One day she was in the office, then suddenly there was a baby. We usually visited the hospital right after the kids were born about a day after labor. Mom would already be all made up, hair all styled and curled and was already completely dressed when we came to see her. (Vanity, vanity!! )

There were a variety of "evidence" of course.

Jo Ann was the eldest. So of course not one of the us saw her born. There were no pictures of Mom pregnant with her or anything. She was the favorite since they "felt" guilty about the adoption and suddenly, a year after, I, the real child came along and so they had to make sure she never felt unwanted.

This was a popular plot of soap operas so it wasn't totally unbelievable.

I was "second child syndrome." I was the adopted one because they were "forced" to take me. That was why Eric and Jo Ann were the favorites and I wasn't.

Eric had to be given Dad's name just to assure him that he was theirs. They had to adopt a boy since they wanted one so bad and all they got were girls.

Lynette's birth also was "suspicious" since she was premature and came home two whole months after Mom came home. We said "they" just said Mom was pregnant in the first place so we would not suspect she was adopted. Sometimes we also said that someone mistakenly "switched" her in the hospital because she stayed so long there. We said that somewhere out there , there was a true Reyes whose place she had taken.

With Laurie, we just about got tired of inventing reasons. I think we just said she was found in a basket outside CCP or something and Mom took her in.

Anyway, all this had ended by the time I was in my late teens...

or so I thought.

One very hot summer day, Mom brought us to Cubao Farmer's Market. She had to buy a few things in the palengke and asked us to come along. We stayed in the van with the driver while Mom went in to buy her stuff.

We waited quite a while just bemoaning the heat and looking at the people in the surrounding area. I guess Mom decided to get more than a few things so that when she came back, she was being assisted by a strange girl, maybe in her mid twenties, who had helped her carry her purchases.

When we were all in the van. Mom told us that she had known that girl, lets call her Gina, for a very long time. Ever since Gina was a young girl in the palengke who would sell plastic bags for a peso.

Mom used to give her a bit extra because she pitied the girl and the Gina would offer to carry her bags as she went from booth to booth. Every Sunday, every week.

When Gina was old enough, she started helping out in one of the booths to sell its merchandize. But every time she would see Mom, she would leave her duties in the booth to help out Mom with her bags.

Then one Sunday, Gina told Mom she was getting married....and soon after, she became pregnant.

A few weeks passed when suddenly, she miscarried. She told Mom this on another Sunday and Mom felt bad for her. She was looking a little unwell when Mom asked her if there was anything else wrong. Apparently the midwife had advised her to see a doctor for a certain necessary procedure . However, she had no money and so didn't bother to go.

Mom decided to give her the money for the procedure and eventually, she took it. A few days later, she reported that the doctor had said that it was a good thing that she came because if she didn't undergo the procedure, it would have debilitated her.

She was so grateful for Mom's help.

A year later, she happily informed Mom that she was once again pregnant. After the mandatory nine months had passed, she gave birth to twin girls. She was surprised as she could not afford a doctor and didn't know she would have twins. A midwife attended her when the children came.

But poor Gina's little girls were tiny and one of them was very very sick. She had worried and fretted for her little girl because she could not afford medical treatment.

Mom again came to the rescue. She had helped Gina through financing treatment. The little girl was hospitalized and was treated in the hospital for days.

Then, one day, Gina was able to take her little girl home. She was so very grateful to Mom. A year later, she introduced Mom to the girl she had helped save.

Mom ended the story there.

Jo Ann then asked, "What happened to the other girl?"

Mom replied" Oh, she's home...asa bahay nila."

Then, from the very back of the car, a long, soft, slow, sigh was heard...

and Laurie said "Whew! I thought it was me!"

Laurie had listened very warily at Mom's story suspecting she might have been the other twin.

We started laughing and laughing and laughing.

Mom of course got really mad at us for making Laurie think she was adopted.

It was still funny though...

Which of these things belong together,
Which of these things are kinda the same
Can you guess which thing just doesn't belong here
Now its time to play our game ( it's time to play our game)