A happy day for me is one spent with Kyle. I’m the type of mom who’d rather walk, play and run with my son than have a massage or party with friends to relax.
In this photo, Kyle and I just came from Gymboree where we played for a little over an hour. We took a quick stop to pose for his dad who took this photo. Our next stop will be at Brothers Burger so we can fill-up before we head off to Kyle’s favorite spot: Fully Booked in Boni High Street.
If there’s one clear thing Kyle inherited from me, it’s his love for going to bookstores and libraries. It doesn’t matter for him to be staying seated between the pages for three hours. It’s always difficult and usually results in crying sprees having to ask him time is up and it’s time to leave the place.
Oh sure, I also got a label of how I am supposed to be called. Denice Christine Gemora Garcia as my parents decided. The “Denice” you’d often find in the office stuck in the computer in the hope of keeping Consultancy Division a box-office hit in Colliers Jardine’s division festival. The “Denice” to my friends who sometimes have to put up with me when I’d start playing the classic “Summer of 42” on the piano, or when I’d sing Astrud Gilberto’s songs (without assuming I have her voice), or when I clone their stories in my write ups which I intend to publish someday, or simply as inspiration to my paintings. The “Denice” who as diagnosed as “Peter Pan of the ‘90s” three years ago by “Dr. Shrink” or simply “Ness” to my two sisters who think I eat too much and I talk too much — much like the rabbit stuff toy with an Energizer battery on that you must have seen on the TV commercials recently.
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