I was unmoved and my eyes were unflinching as I memorized the recipe that I'm going to cook for my daughter's birthday party. I recall how Mamita reprimanded me for not learning any single recipe and here she goes again. Hey, I know how to fry eggs and hotdogs, since my Queenie likes it. She told me that my husband, Bert came from a family of chef. I know I will never meet that standard. But atleast I'm trying. She stopped talking and cautiously looked at my new floral curtain, without sipping yet to the coffee that I prepared for her.
'Ok, so Queenie will turn 7 next month. What's your plan- catering or my son will cook for her eventhough he's busy?' Mamita sarcastically asked me.
'Ahhmm, I'm learning a new recipe now. I'm hoping to learn two other recipes.' My voice was a little shaking.
' Oh, that's good. Before you present that food, I want to taste it first and let's see what remedy I can offer.'
I just nodded to her while holding my breath. She now glances at my stereo set, then on the red carpet and my figurines.
‘I’ll go in 5 minutes, I just want to know your plan for your daughter’s birthday.’
Finally, she sipped the coffee and said,
‘Haven’t Bert told you that I don’t like cappuccino?’ While her face turned like a bitter gourd.
‘No, mamita. He didn’t tell it to me yet.’
‘Next time know what I want also not just you only knows what you want.’
‘But mamita, I have my own family now. I can’t always know what you want.’
‘Diana, you’re not learning anything look at your place, it’s disorganized.’
I know it ever since, that she doesn’t want me for her son. If only I could say leave me, I will but I’m afraid that my husband will listen to her again as she made her own story. As she kept on staring around the corners of my house and thinking bad thoughts about me, I want to show her a mirror and look on how ugly she is inside. Will this make her stop?
‘Mamita, I think it’s already time. You can now leave.’
She left me without a blink of an eye. She carried with her Loius Vuitton leather bag.
Time saved me. But I know this never-ending battle who’s better-than-who won’t stop. It gives me another stress, and I almost forgot the recipe that I’m learning.