MUMSY-WUMSY

This special shot is going out to my Momma,
Ms Ernestine Charles!
Momma used to do people's hair in the kitchen,
press and curl, hot curlers, everything!
I love you Momma!

Oops, wrong song! That was for Ru Paul's Momma who I imagine is nothing like my mother.

I grew up closer to my father - a possible anomaly given that I am the gay son. Shouldn't I be tied to my Mum's apron strings learning her recipes, trying on her jewellery and makeup, and sitting pretty like a princess at her feet? But I did not turn out to be quite a princess, I guess. On the other hand, my father must have realised from the get-go that I needed unconditional love and special attention so that I would grow into a strong and confident (homosexual) man.

Not that my Mum was ever distant to me or any of my brothers and sister. But she just prefers to love us equally and by proxy.

Last week, my sister, who is married and living in Hamburg with her husband and children, called to greet our Mum on Mother's Day.

"Lina, esta Mama? Soy Emilia, quiero hablar con ella, por favor."

"Ay, Ma'am Emilia, un momento po." How our maids learned to speak pidgin Spanish is beyond me.

The long-suffering Lina returned and sheepishly announced: "Ma'am Emilia, your mother is watching Manny Pacquio boxing. She ask you to call again later."

Of course a fuming Emilia rang me not a minute later to complain about our Mum.

But I've learned to live with my Mum's eccentricities, even expect it, having been subjected to it a few times.

I remember calling her while I was on holiday with friends. CNN announced there was a plot to overthrow the Aquino government and I was very worried. Lina answered the phone, put me on hold to summon my Mum, returned to the phone to say sheepishly: "Sir, your mother is entertaining guests; she says there is no more coup d'etat here." Click. Dial tone. Goodbye.

But this one takes the cake: She called me on the phone once, out of the blue, to announce that my bother Benito's birthday asalto would be cancelled and that I didn't have to go home. She was evasive and I knew something wasn't right, but it was at the height of the SARS pandemic and realising how troublesome travel would be I readily cancelled my trip.

On the day of my brother's planned asalto, I called home. The phone was ringing but no one was answering. I redialled and the same thing happened. I got very worried. I tried a third time and another maid answered the phone. I asked her what took her long to answer and she explained that they were having a party for my brother.

I was really puzzled. So the party wasn't cancelled after all!

"Kasi Sir," the hapless maid explained, "your mother said you shouldn't come home because your will bring the SARS germs with you."

Well, what can I say? Mother knows best, doesn't she?

Belated Happy Mother's Day to all!