simple pleasures

I woke up this morning in the bed that saw me through junior high, high school, and many, many trials of "I wonder how high I have to jump to touch the ceiling."

I thought to myself: "Home." I went downstairs, where Dad was already up. He was eating cereal and watching a documentary on sharks. I went to the living room and sat at the piano bench. I pressed the middle pedal to muffle the music, but my brother heard it anyway. "EEELLLLAAAIIINNEEE!" he moaned. I went upstairs to say hello to big brother.

While he laid in bed, he showed me the new ringtones on his phone, asked me how I was doing, and asked me what I wanted for Christmas. "You said you already got me my Christmas present," I said. "Oh, yeah, that's right." His awesome girlfriend does his shopping for him. He's so spoiled.

Dad is retired. He stays at home and fixes stuff. Today, it was my car. He dreams of driving to Alaska. I push him towards setting the date, going online to research the places he wants to visit, finding a travel agent. He said he'll wait until after they get back from Europe. Mom and Dad are going to Europe for this pilgrimage with our church. They aren't going to Israel or anything. Just to some holy places in France, Italy, and Spain. The priest who I think is boring is leading it.

Mom still works. She works for a county hospital. She works overtime. When she comes home, I know she's tired--an hour drive through traffic will do that to you. But she's still lovely and doesn't complain.

Kuya works his butt off. He takes 12 hour shifts and sleeps weird hours. Dad says he's become stingy because he's saving money for his new home, which he'll be moving into come summer.

I vegged out today. Just for today. I played some piano, and then I asked Dad if I could ride my bike. I'm still used to asking my parents for permission for everything. I hope that never leaves me. He said sure, and he put air in my tires. I felt like a kid again. I rode down the street--we live on a hilly culdesac. And then I went around the neighborhood.

When you're a kid, you have it so good. It's unbelievable how good it is. I'd like to think that I have it both--I'm childish and adult-ish. Who wants to be serious all the time? Not me.