I spent the last 3 days helping out with my 5-yr-old cousin’s preparation for a kiddie pageant at her pre-school as she was the appointed representative for class muse. We took care designing her 3-wheeler ‘float’ for their parade (which turned out quite fine for something planned and done spontaneously). We got her a purple gown, bought her a new pair of shoes and practiced her routine for the talents’ showcase again and again (and again!).

Yesterday was the big day. There we were.. me, my mom, my Tita our cutie little princess and her very makulit but adorable escort. I was my lil cousin’s stage-ate slash photographer slash ‘float’ designer slash fashion-hair-makeup consultant slash semi-choreographer slash chauffeur and her very own groupie! We were all pretty excited in spite feeling worn out from all the costume change and the moving around. But to top it all off, she was able to entice the judges in her own charming innocent way, thus had bagged the tiara for herself, much to our suprise and delight. I was her proud ate who pinned her sash. But my joyous reaction was nothing compared to her teary-eyed mom. Such a sweet sight of such a sweet victory :) Though, i’m afraid i’m gonna have to find a way to combat the mamma eu quero da a chupeta jingle that’s still irritatingly reverberating in my head..

It was a nice time of fixing and dressing up. Reminds me so much of the time my brother and I were unyieldingly coerced to represent our dad’s uncle’s company’s float at the Masskara festival when i was probably 7 or 8. It took me a while to live that embarrassment down as i was picked on by my classmates for quite some time. Ironic how I wouldn’t even smile or wave at the Bacolod crowd then when yesterday I would constantly call out to my lil cousin to “smile!” and “wave!” at her spectators. :)

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