Mother Eagle

With the deluge of period films coming out of late, I find myself fascinated once more by the formal language of British English—the idioms, the diction and simple elegance of their wordiness. Thus I write this blog is this style in my attempt to re-live such decadent times…

Mothering is an utterly astonishing experience. Seven years into this career, and I am still taken by the surprises of the profession. Case in point – a brush with a boy showing interest in my progeny. Who would have thought that I would be hovering over her like an eagle, talons out and ready to gouge his eyes at the slightest provocation?

They were at play at the Ever Ortigas branch of McDonald’s. It was never unusual that my Kimi would befriend a child or two within the hour we spend there. Oft times, she would dote on a toddler or play rough with other children her own age until she comes back to us sweating, flushed but happy. This time, the boy was paying a different kind of attention to her.

There was something in the way he stared at her. My daughter speaks fluent English with an American accent and he spoke in the vernacular, yet they seem to understand each other. He followed her about, even as she came back to me our table for a sip. He never dared come too close but he was there. Perhaps my brazen stare stopped him. That maybe just as well for I desired to instill in him the fear of a mother protecting her young. But he did have the audacity, at one point, to ask me if we went to the place everyday, to which I responded with a curt “no,” one brow raised and my face deadly serious.

Upon interrogation, my daughter admitted that she did "like" the boy though she could not remember his name, nor did she know his surname, age and place of residence. On further prodding, she confessed that he had “felt her skin on the cheek” and that she had kissed him on the cheek. My feathers were promptly ruffled. Had I the fangs…

I wasted no time thereafter. Mother and daughter had a heart-to-heart talk. Beware of boys! More especially, beware of boys who pay too much attention! He can hurt you and you will let him. There is nothing wrong with liking them, but know them enough first! Our kisses are special – not to be given to just anyone!

My husband warned me that the boy was nearby, to which I responded, “Good! Let him be scared of me.”

I may laugh at this account in the future. Right now, I have this burning desire to keep my only daughter in an island of Amazons – where men are shown their place and kept at bay, and the women lay the rules of engagement.

Men – I have a mouthful to say about them, most of which will be considered derogatory, given my experience. This being a public journal, I shall reserve these comments to myself.

=)K