Of chopsticks and waterguns and flour

My 3-Hera students and I had just parted from our classroom Christmas party just a few Internet hours ago. The event was something where I was more of an observer than a participant.

"Iligtas si Anne" and other parlor games
In the morning, they had treasure hunting and "Iligtas si Anne" (their version of "The Boat is Sinking". I joined one group and as the "lola" of the family, had to suffer rolling on the floor and being stepped on, sat on, in short, crushed to the bone. I had never ever played the game "The boat is Sinking" in my life. Not when I was in kinder, nor in elementary. Not even in high school when the idea of sitting on or lying on or simply holding onto a member of the opposite sex sounded exciting. Not even in college with all the leadership seminars I have attended.

After being stampeded upon by four to five students at different level of the "Iligtas"game, how much different do you think did I feel compared to beef tapa? (See picture. Can't see me? That's because I'm crushed underneath Raqueline, the tallest student in my class.)

Surely, if it was you, you could have eaten a whole cow afterwards. But say, you were indeed given a heavy table-ful of menudo and lechon manok and estofado and get-as-much-as-you-want rice, how would you further feel if you were handed chopsticks instead of spoon and fork?? Chopsticks! Imagine!

"Balut" the improv show
And then, some had their group presentations, too. The "Balut!" improv show seems to be the trend right now. Some of my grad school classmates also performed that in our Camping last semester. Hmmmnn... I wonder who turned this into an "uso"? Later on, if this kind of show continues, we could probably put it up on the same shelf as the "Luwa" --a genre of literature and drama that has no known author and was passed on through word of mouth.

"Espe-espe"
Well, anyway, after everybody felt somewhat restless again, we had the "exchange gifts" portion of the party. It was fun. I gave my SP (Sarah Mae Higgins) a bookmark and a book and an Artwork shirt, that-- to her utter disbelief, was exactly her size. Disbelief, because Sarah was the kind of girl whose entire wardrobe is composed of loose ("hal-hal") jeans, oversized Tshirts, and sneakers and slippers. Nothing pink unless it is an org or class shirt -meaning, required. I made her change into it after they all got wet and dirty with the flour-throwing game of tongue twisters, which to her felt like some kind of punishment, especially after I threatened that I'll make sure to see her out of the school gate still wearing the shirt. So funny! She keeps on whining, "Ma'am? Islan ko na Ma'am..." Hahahaha! Haay, Sarah ka!

"Clean-up time, anyone?"
Clean-up time always makes me feel alternately like a skipping MP3 player on mute and Sir Jamili, the teacher in charge of the CAT. Everytime I would yell, "Pang-limpyo na," it seems as if I have yelled it repeatedly for dozens of times, and it seems as if everybody was doing everything except what you ask them to do. The only time they would actually remember to hear me and follow my instructions is when I would switch on my Jamili mode and resort to a decibel-higher voice and open threats including "Itext ko si Nanay mo!" and the all-timer "Minus ten! Minus five!"

Haay... What if these kids are really my kids? God, I couldn't actually fathom what life would be like.