my real Mom and Dad

I don't believe people as much as I do to mom and dad. If a boy likes you, he won't tease you so bad. If someone wants to befriend you, she will accept all your imperfections. Mom believes in fairy tales so do I. Dad appreciates romantic love stories and I became a writer. Because of them, I sometimes think my life might be like a movie.

Mom is a teacher. She was my first and still teacher. Before going to school, she will wash my clothes and prepare my breakfast. When I learned to do it myself, she is still there as my guide. If money isn't enough for a cab fare, she will introduce 'walking exercise' to me. So I walk from home to school. She's busy when I gained my honor at high school but she still came and handed me the medal at stage. When I am sick, she will wake up in the middle of the night to prepare a soup. She won't mind not eating any special food and spare it for me. All along, since birth, Mom gave me unconditional love that doesn't even ask for something in return.

Dad is an engineer. He can charge things through a mechanical ways. he can do amazing stuffs I love to see. Every birthday I have, he will go home and buy me a cake. He will recount my 'perfect' scores and will encourage me to continue them through a treat. He knows I love pink so he accidentally bought pink kitty umbrella I cannot use because I am afraid my seniors might bully me for having a childish thing. He will come home earlier when I am sick. When no enough food is on the table, he will pour salt on the cooked rice and will call it his 'specialty'. He doesn't have a car but when I was needed to be fetched from a high school ball, he borrowed my uncle's car and made me feel like I am his princess. When I am wounded, he will cure them with brake fluid. When I cry, he will but me my favorite mango flavored Ice cream.

Before sleeping, mom will retell me those fairy tales she use to tell me when I was 5. She only stopped telling me fairy tales when I was in my junior years and later. As reality became a bit vivid to my bare eyes, dad will tell me real-time love stories. He is an aspirant writer who loves novels, books, movies, and stories of any kind. I love fairy tales as much as I love romantic love stories; the plots, the characters, the twists, and everything about them. But I never thought I will detest one part because I will live one from them. The adoption issue.

Sooner or later, DNA will testify Mom and Dad are not blood related to me. That time, I will still call them MOM and DAD. I don't need a luxurious living, a fancy life, or a magical reality. I need to be with them. For what is 'nanny' if they only clean my clothes because of money and not because they love me? Even if a driver fetches me from here to there, 'walking exercise' is much healthier. A medicine when I am sick cannot heal me the way mom's soup did. Even a wound will have it's scar without dad's brake fluid. I may be bullied once but I'd rather use that pink kitty umbrella than let some bodyguards do the work for me. I am already fond of dad's 'specialty' so I won't care now if the table is full of foods. And on my birthday, I want to have my favorite mango flavored Ice cream and be treated like a princess once again with my Queen and King and they are Mom and Dad.