Saturdays at Home

It's been over three years since I moved out of my parents' home.  Occasionally, Nards and I would spend a couple of nights here.  My sister has long moved into my old room.  I now occupy her old room that has been turned into a hobby room of sorts at first, and eventually reverted back to a bedroom for Nards and my benefit.

Yesterday, I had to go to my parents' because Beng and I needed to bake to fill orders.  (My new oven is temporarily set up in my Mom's kitchen.)   I wound up spending the night.  After baking over 120 macaron shells, 40 pcs of chocolate chip cookies and two batches of muffins, (including prep and clean up) I could hardly stand up.  I curled up in my Mom's favorite chair by the piano and refused to move after I settled in.

This morning, I woke up to my brother making breakfast, my sister badgering my brother over something inane, my Mom folding freshly laundered clothes and my Dad reading an online broadsheet.  (It took a while to get him to migrate from reading an actual newspaper to reading them online.  It always makes me think of Mang Romy who used to deliver our newspapers daily, and how the advent of online broadsheets cost him his regular income.  It makes me so sad, and I always hope that he has found other means to support his family.  I'm digressing.)  I got asked the usual pre-breakfast questions.

"Ate, how many eggs do you want for breakfast?"
"Eew." (I REALLY don't like eggs.)
"Are you drinking coffee or hot chocolate?"
"Water."
"So do you want eggs?" with a tone that is pressing me to say yes.
"(sigh) Okay one."

Late breakfast ensued with the usual morning chatter and lighthearted bickering.  The plates have been hardly cleaned up when the doorbell rang.  It's the sisters from a nearby convent popping in for a Saturday visit.  I grabbed my laptop and ipod and scrambled to get inside my room because I was still in my PJs.  I was hoping to check my email and to call Nards to check up on him.  My sister followed me, still holding her cup of coffee, which she puts on a stack of books on the shelf before sprawling on the beanbag beside the bed.  My brother came a few minutes later, muscling my sister out of the beanbag.  My sister ensconced herself on the bed, pushing me to one corner.  They took several trips to their respective rooms to gather all their electronics, before they settled in comfortably (for a better part of the day) in my (TINY) room.

Count the gadgets deduct one and divide by two.  The only thing there that's mine is the laptop.

They used to this all the time in my old room.  My brother would lounge at the foot of my bed occupying nearly half of it, and my sister would try to squeeze herself on whatever space we can share on the other half.  And stay.  We'd read, watch TV or play video games in my (always tiny) bed.

I love it.