Puppet Rap

My sister made the theater and Artzooka'ed it.

I used the puppets of the kids (both from Changi Airport).

And I used Eminem and Rihanna's song.

(You can hear my 2 year old daughter singing along)

(Note: no puppets were harmed in making this video)

Here you go:

June 25, 1990

Mrs. Leoncio, my new adviser and English teacher, called me out to the center of the room.

She asked me to read a few paragraphs of “Little Women” in front of the class.

I was 12 years old. In the seventh grade. In my nth school. And just got back in the Philippines after two years in Goose Creek, South Carolina.

It was my first day in school. And man, was I nervous.

I started reading.
F@#$ if I remember what I was reading.

I was wearing a black shirt and jeans and my British Knights. Everyone else was wearing their school uniforms.

And everyone else was staring at me. At least it felt that way.

I kept reading, with my eyes glued to the borrowed book from my seatmate.

For some reason, they were laughing. Was it my accent? Was my fly open? Did I just fart while reading?

Mrs. Leoncio then tells me to pause whenever there was a “period” or a “comma” whenever I read aloud, and to not run through the sentences.

Clearly, I was not good in public speaking.

I tried to stay calm and looked around the room. I felt restless and embarrassed.
And then I saw her.

Her pretty face. Her lovely smile. Her beautiful skin. She was wearing a red headband.

And did I mention that pretty face?

With palms sweating I was asked to go back to my seat.

I asked my seatmate if I was really bad. He says yes, so I must have made an @$$ of myself. I probably sounded like Speedy Gonzales.

I then asked him the name of the girl with the red headband who is seated near the back.

He turned to look around.

He then told me her name.

Michelle.

Happy Birthday, Arissa!

Dear Arissa,


On June 30, 2009, you were born. This was right about the same week that Michael Jackson died and when Ron Artest declared he will wear #37 as tribute to the 37 weeks Thriller was #1 (you can look him up when your older; just google "crazy but talented NBA player").


I remember seeing and holding you for the first time (you were so light and cuddly, but man, can you wail!).


It was a tough pregnancy for me and your mom, with her lupus symptoms and all. But it was also tough on you after you were born. We found out that the hard way that you couldn't drink the standard formula (mommy couldn't breastfeed at first because of all the steroids in her bloodstream).

You spent more than a week in ICU, and I had to split time between classes/reading business cases, and attending to our family as well as visiting you at the hospital. We had to bring you back to the hospital, to the emergency room in fact, because we didn't know why you suddenly turned yellow. We fed you milk not knowing it was making you worse. Yeah, it was pretty harsh.


Today, you still drink a special formula. Alhamdullilah, we got by through prayers and the support of our families, and you have become an incredibly healthy baby. And even more cuddlier.


It's been a year, and I thank Allah swt everyday for you, your mom, and your siblings.


Happy birthday, baby girl!


Love,

Daddy