<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-888138206673936763</id><updated>2011-04-22T09:01:43.015+08:00</updated><category term='grandmother talks'/><category term='child banters'/><title type='text'>rants and raves of a little angel...</title><subtitle type='html'>I'm too young to write... My mum started this page so I can look back when I'm older and share with her the things that made her laugh, smile and cry... A page where we both can look back and remember all those times she can't be with me although she tried... all those times she missed and wished she hadn't... all those times...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Aki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17109948402757854179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-888138206673936763.post-983134884706659727</id><published>2008-07-25T15:26:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T10:32:37.030+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of birthdays, holidays, pilots and planes</title><content type='html'>My mum called me up one night... She was trying to decide whether to come home for my birthday or for Christmas. Even at a young age she has already taught me never to make promises you can't keep. So now she's having a dilemma because she promised me she will be home for my birthday (especially since our birthdays are only 3 days apart); but she really wants to be home for the holidays because she haven't been home for the past 4 Christmas'...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Donna: &lt;em&gt;Aki kailn mo ako gsto umuwi sa birthday mo or sa Christmas?&lt;/em&gt; (Aki, when do you want me to come home on your birthday or on Christmas?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: NOW&lt;em&gt; na!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Donna: &lt;em&gt;Baby, hindi pwede eh.... ermm (thinking of an alibi)... kasi tulog na yong mga airplane...&lt;/em&gt; (Baby, that's not possible... ermmm... because the airplanes are all sleeping now)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and she thought she can get away with it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: &lt;em&gt;Mama hindi nmn natutulog ang airplane wala naman silang eyes... ang natutulog yong pilot!&lt;/em&gt; (Mama airplanes can't sleep, they don't have eyes... the pilots are the ones sleeping!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Donna: (speechless and laughing) &lt;em&gt;Ay oo baby, sorry mali si Mama...&lt;/em&gt; (Oh Baby, you're right, I'm so sorry...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: &lt;em&gt;Eh Mama, bakit natutulog sila? Pero pag gabi naman meron pa din akong nakikitang airplane? &lt;/em&gt;(Mama, why are they sleeping? and how can that be, I can still airplanes at night)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mama Donna: &lt;em&gt;ermmm... Kasi baby napagod sila kasi mabigat ang mga airplanes...&lt;/em&gt; (Because baby...they are tired and airplanes are heavy)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Aki: &lt;em&gt;Huh? Paano magiging mabigat ang plane? eh may gulong un tska pakpak, di naman yon binubuhat ng pilot,di ba? pinapalipad nya lang!&lt;/em&gt; (Huh? How can planes be heavy for them? planes have little wheels and wings, pilots don't carry a plane, they fly it!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My Mama Lola was laughing and my Mama Donna, too... I really don't know why but am I not right?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/888138206673936763-983134884706659727?l=aqueousmartine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/feeds/983134884706659727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=888138206673936763&amp;postID=983134884706659727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/983134884706659727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/983134884706659727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/2008/07/of-birthdays-holidays-pilots-and-planes.html' title='of birthdays, holidays, pilots and planes'/><author><name>Aki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17109948402757854179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-888138206673936763.post-6080498620696440982</id><published>2008-07-07T19:50:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T15:26:44.253+08:00</updated><title type='text'>never tell lies...</title><content type='html'>My mum called me one night... she was excited and was asking me a lot of things about school, my classmates, my lessons to which I was so proud and excited to tell her as well... then she asked...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Donna: Baby, maganda ba si teacher mo? (Baby, is your teacher pretty?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: (speechless)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Donna: Baby... ano na, maganda ba si teacher mo? (Baby c'mon is your teacher pretty?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: ....errmmm.... Mama Donna... ehhh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Donna: Ano baby? (what baby?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki:...eh Mama... mabait sya! (eh Mama... she's kind)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea what I just said but my Mum kept on laughing and laughing on the other line... I have yet to find out that, this is also how she answers people when asked about direct questions such as that, and she doesn't want to be mean...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/888138206673936763-6080498620696440982?l=aqueousmartine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/feeds/6080498620696440982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=888138206673936763&amp;postID=6080498620696440982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/6080498620696440982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/6080498620696440982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-mum-called-me-one-night.html' title='never tell lies...'/><author><name>Aki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17109948402757854179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-888138206673936763.post-1076071634041804059</id><published>2008-07-07T19:50:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T11:00:19.599+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of sit-ins and sections</title><content type='html'>As my Mama Lola and Papa Lolo had a fight and my Papa Lolo left for a few days. My Mama Lola and Mama Donna decided to let me sit-in for pre-school classes. There are 3 levels for the pre-schools: pre-casa (3 yrs old), junior casa (4 yrs old) and advance casa (5 yrs old). I was 3 so they decided to put me in pre-casa. But the next day they had to move me to junior casa. You know why? According to the teachers I kept on complaining that I already know what they were teaching and they just keep on repeating things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my mum would have probably told you before, my attention span is rather short. She said it's because my comprehension is fast. That's why I easily get bored...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my first week of sitting in. I think I may have enjoyed it, you know why? according to Mama Lola I woke up early on a Saturday crying....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: &lt;em&gt;Mama Lola, bkit di mo ko ginising? Now I'm absent for my class...&lt;/em&gt; (Mama Lola, why didn't you wake me up now I will be marked absent in my class)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Lola: Baby, Sabado ngayon.... wala tayong pasok... (Baby, today is a Saturday we have no classes)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: &lt;em&gt;Pero sabi ni teacher wag daw ako mag-aabsent...&lt;/em&gt; (But my teacher said I shouldn't be absent)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Lola had to distract me with food to make me forget about my mistaken day of the week...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/888138206673936763-1076071634041804059?l=aqueousmartine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/feeds/1076071634041804059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=888138206673936763&amp;postID=1076071634041804059' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/1076071634041804059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/1076071634041804059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/2008/07/of-sit-ins-and-sections.html' title='of sit-ins and sections'/><author><name>Aki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17109948402757854179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-888138206673936763.post-8694132496470048446</id><published>2008-06-28T18:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T10:31:03.115+08:00</updated><title type='text'>where do babies come from?</title><content type='html'>My Mama Lola asked me one day when I was being naughty and a menace to her...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Lola: &lt;em&gt;Aki, alam mo ba kung saan ka galing?&lt;/em&gt; (Aki, do you know where you came from?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: &lt;em&gt;Opo kay Mama Donna nilagay ako don ni Papa Mark...&lt;/em&gt; (yes, I came from Mama Donna, Papa Mark put me inside her tummy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Lola: &lt;em&gt;Kapag makulit ka pa, ippasok kita ulet sa tiyan ni Mama Donna!&lt;/em&gt; (if you son't behave yourself I'm going to put you back inside your Mama's tummy!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: &lt;em&gt;Hala Mama Lola! Ang liit ni Mama Donna eh, ang laki ko na kaya... tska paano ako kakain don? &lt;/em&gt;(Oh no Mama Lola! You can't because My Mama Donna is so small, I'm a big boy now... and how will I get to eat there?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even in the most extreme cases I still have to think of my stomach... hehehe...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/888138206673936763-8694132496470048446?l=aqueousmartine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/feeds/8694132496470048446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=888138206673936763&amp;postID=8694132496470048446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/8694132496470048446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/8694132496470048446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/2008/06/where-do-babies-come-from.html' title='where do babies come from?'/><author><name>Aki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17109948402757854179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-888138206673936763.post-5157348988087629198</id><published>2008-06-27T10:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T10:55:27.539+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I want a sibling!</title><content type='html'>My mum called from Singapore one night...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: &lt;em&gt;Mama Donna gusto ko ng kapatid... wala akong playmate dito, lahat na sila nagpupunta ng school...&lt;/em&gt; (Mama Donna I want a sibling... I don't have any playmates here all of them are going to school...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Donna: &lt;em&gt;Hindi pa pwede baby, kasi gusto ko ikaw lang muna ang baby ko... &lt;/em&gt;(Baby, I can't do that yet, I just want one baby for now. I just want you....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: &lt;em&gt;Hindi ka ba nalulungkot ako lang baby mo? Mas maganda Mama, pag dalawa na baby mo hindi ba? Tawag mo kay Papa Mark "baby" din eh malaki na yon!&lt;/em&gt; (Aren't you sad that I'm your only baby? Wouldn't it be nice if there were 2 of us? You also call my Papa Mark, "baby" he's already a grown up!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the conversation goes on... My mum tried to distract me then asked for my "Mama Lola"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: &lt;em&gt;Mama Lola o ikaw na nga kumausap kay Mama Donna, ayaw naman niya gumawa ng kapatid ko, bili na lang tayo sa Market-Market!&lt;/em&gt; (Mama Lola here's the phone, you talk to Mama Donna, she doesn't want to make a brother or a sister for me, let's just go and buy at Market Market (a famous shopping mall in the Philippines))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mum said she doesn't know where I get my ideas from... I'll tell you when I know, too...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/888138206673936763-5157348988087629198?l=aqueousmartine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/feeds/5157348988087629198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=888138206673936763&amp;postID=5157348988087629198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/5157348988087629198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/5157348988087629198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-want-sibling.html' title='I want a sibling!'/><author><name>Aki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17109948402757854179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-888138206673936763.post-6099267856210680223</id><published>2008-06-25T20:42:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T10:28:54.198+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of shapes and colors</title><content type='html'>Only recently my "Mama Lola" bought some educational charts for me (shapes and colors). My Mum asked her to start my tuition as I'm going to start pre-primary the following year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day my "Tita Tey" was teaching me about shapes and colors, etc. Of course repetition is a must for me to remember and learn. By the third time that she repeats I get fed up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: (scratching head) Tita Tey naman kanina ka pa eh, paulit-ulit na lang tayo! Alam ko na nga yan oh! Yellow, blue, red...(Tita Tey we've been through these things over and over again. I already now that, see... Yellow, blue, red)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and poor Tita tey who was trying to be patient could just smile and scratch her head, too...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/888138206673936763-6099267856210680223?l=aqueousmartine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/feeds/6099267856210680223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=888138206673936763&amp;postID=6099267856210680223' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/6099267856210680223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/6099267856210680223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/2008/06/only-recently-my-mama-lola-bought-some.html' title='of shapes and colors'/><author><name>Aki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17109948402757854179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-888138206673936763.post-7830645286154800464</id><published>2008-06-25T16:39:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T20:31:52.251+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of teachers, sit-ins and promises</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I love to learn according to my mum... My attention span is so short that she, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles should always keep me learning new things otherwise I'll get bored and be grumpy and restless...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There was one time that one of my "Mama Lola's" co-teacher promised me that I could sit in, in one of her classes. So the next day I was restless and insisted that I should get dressed and ready for my first sit in class.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;To my dismay Teacher Nela was absent... The next day I insisted that I want to see Teacher Nela so I need to go to school... I stormed into the faculty and confronted a 28 year old teacher. Here's what happened...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Aki: (with hands on waist) &lt;em&gt;Miss Nela, bakit ka absent? Sabi mo pasok ako sa class mo tpos wala k naman?&lt;/em&gt; (Miss Nela, why were you absent? You told me that I can sit in your class but you were not here, yesterday?)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Miss Nela: (apologetic) &lt;em&gt;Aki, sorry ha? Kasi may pinuntahan ako kaya hindi ako nakapasok...&lt;/em&gt; (Aki, I'm sorry. I had to go somewhere, that's why I wasn't able to come to work)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Aki: &lt;em&gt;Sabi ng Mama Donna ko, hindi daw dpat mag-promise kung hindi gagawin, kaya dapat hindi ka nag-promise sa kin. Sige Miss Nela mag-sorry ka sa kin!&lt;/em&gt; (My Mama Donna told me that you shouldn't promise something unless you can keep it. You shouldn't have told me that I can sit in your class yesterday if you knew you can't come. So now say sorry and apologize to me!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Teachers who heard tried so hard not to laugh... they can't believe that a little boy who's not even 3 years old that time could scold a 28 year old teacher...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/888138206673936763-7830645286154800464?l=aqueousmartine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/feeds/7830645286154800464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=888138206673936763&amp;postID=7830645286154800464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/7830645286154800464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/7830645286154800464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/2008/06/of-teachers-sit-ins-and-promises.html' title='of teachers, sit-ins and promises'/><author><name>Aki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17109948402757854179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-888138206673936763.post-3891418338572874213</id><published>2008-06-25T16:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T16:37:53.630+08:00</updated><title type='text'>on toys and playmates...</title><content type='html'>On my birthday, being a Military (Navy) Officer, my Dad bought a toy gun for me... My Mum disapproves but I can't be bent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I was out showing off my new toy to playmates who are 3-5 years older than me... I just turned 3. My Mum was cooking her specialty... Seafood Pasta in Cream Sauce... My Dad heard me crying and shouting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Papa Mark: (with a serious face) &lt;em&gt;Aki, ano sbi ko syo? Pag nkikipaglaro ka, kung di ka naman nasaktan don't cry, db?&lt;/em&gt; (Aki, what did I tell you? when you are playing, don't cry unless you're hurt, right?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: &lt;em&gt;Eh Papa, hindi nila alm laruin ung gun ko eh...&lt;/em&gt; (Papa, they don't know how to play with my gun!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Papa Mark: (looks at Mama Donna, who just smiles and shrugs) &lt;em&gt;Kahit na... ituro mo sa knila, sige kapag narinig pa kitang umiyak, itatago ko ung gun mo. &lt;/em&gt;(Even so! Teach them how to play with it. If I hear you crying one more time I'm going to keep your gun and you can't play with it anymore!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: (scratching his head then hands on waist) &lt;em&gt;Eh bakit mo pa binili, itatago mo din naman pala?&lt;/em&gt; (Then why did you buy it for me, if you're just going to keep it and won't let me play?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Papa Mark scratches his head and looks at Mama Donna who's been trying so hard to contain a laugh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/888138206673936763-3891418338572874213?l=aqueousmartine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/feeds/3891418338572874213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=888138206673936763&amp;postID=3891418338572874213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/3891418338572874213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/3891418338572874213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/2008/06/on-toys-and-playmates.html' title='on toys and playmates...'/><author><name>Aki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17109948402757854179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-888138206673936763.post-1053233906836354060</id><published>2008-06-25T13:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T13:14:16.010+08:00</updated><title type='text'>one night with Dad...</title><content type='html'>It was almost dawn... I was 3 then...as any little child who wakes up in the middle of the night, there is almost always an urgency to either drink (milk, water, etc), pee or poop... As for me I'm thirsty... I opened my eyes and woke up my Dad sleeping beside me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: &lt;em&gt;Papa Mark, Papa Mark, gusto ko magdrink ng water&lt;/em&gt;... (Papa Mark, Papa Mark, I want to drink water...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Papa Mark: (with eyes half closed) &lt;em&gt;haaa? Wag na baby... kawawa naman ako maiiwan ako dito magisa...&lt;/em&gt; (haaa? Baby, why don't you just go back to sleep? If you stand and get a drink now poor Papa Mark, will be left alone here)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: (scratching head) &lt;em&gt;Eh di, tumayo ka, samahan mo ko? Para dalawa tayo, walang maiiwan dito, di ba?&lt;/em&gt; (Why don't you stand and go with me? In that case no one will be left here in the room alone since you're going with me!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Papa Mark: (now awake, shakes his head and smiles)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;once again... end of argument... =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/888138206673936763-1053233906836354060?l=aqueousmartine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/feeds/1053233906836354060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=888138206673936763&amp;postID=1053233906836354060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/1053233906836354060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/1053233906836354060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/2008/06/one-night-with-dad.html' title='one night with Dad...'/><author><name>Aki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17109948402757854179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-888138206673936763.post-8443471898400266690</id><published>2008-06-25T12:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T12:28:07.168+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grandmother talks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='child banters'/><title type='text'>an afternoon with grandma...</title><content type='html'>It was a sunny afternoon... I was 2 years old...craving for my favorite chocolate and snacks... I asked my grandmother "Mama Lola" to take me to the nearby sari-sari store. Here is what took place (as told by my mum "Mama Donna" and grandmother "Mama Lola") :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Lola: (panting) &lt;em&gt;Aki, wag ka na magpakarga, baby... napapagod na si Mama Lola... malapit lang naman yong store...&lt;/em&gt; (Aki, please don't ask Mama Lola to carry you, I'm tired... After all the store is quite near...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: (pouting)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Lola: (explaining) &lt;em&gt;Tingnan mo si Mama Lola nagwa-walk lang o see...&lt;/em&gt; (Look at Mama Lola, I'm just walking, see...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aki: (with hands on waist) &lt;em&gt;Bakit Mama Lola, ako ba it ikaw pareho? Matanda ka na baby pa ako!&lt;/em&gt; (Why Mama Lola, are you and I the same? You're already a grown up and I'm just a baby!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... and the argument ends =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/888138206673936763-8443471898400266690?l=aqueousmartine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/feeds/8443471898400266690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=888138206673936763&amp;postID=8443471898400266690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/8443471898400266690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/888138206673936763/posts/default/8443471898400266690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aqueousmartine.blogspot.com/2008/06/afternoon-with-grandma.html' title='an afternoon with grandma...'/><author><name>Aki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17109948402757854179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
