life of a cuddlebit

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a kid’s treasure

I sort of unearthed some of my treasures form the past. (while cleaning my drawer) 

childhood

First was my beloved tamagochi-digital pet. Mine was yellow, my pet is a dinosaur. I wanted to resurrect it, tried to place fresh batteries, but the thing was dead/broken. Still I decided to keep it, maybe get dad to fix it.

Next was some Pogs and a plain slammer, in a tin can of Ouch bubblegum. Back in the days pogs and bubblegum/candies were our currency. Shiny slammers were worth more, and we have our lucky slammer. We trade them to other kids for cards, more pogs or more bubblegum/candies. Our bubblegum favorites was of course; ouch, bubble tape, bazooka, bubble jug and judge bubblegum. For candies, skittles, warheads, air heads, gobstoppers, nerds and runts were cheaper back then.

One of my treasured toys was a lighted Viewmaster. I have Flintstones and Beauty and the Beast reels. (that I watch and re-watch) My aunt got it for me from Duty Free, along with a lighted Poly Pocket because those were the rage back then. Those were my portable toys and they went wherever I go.

Speaking of going places, though I have my bright red bike, I can be usually spotted wearing my purple rollerblades. I never took them off. Even when playing with jumping ropes. I am a rollerblade expert that way! I still have them but the straps are broken.

Lastly, some red fragrance beads (we call them kisses, that lost their scent) that we place in our fancy automatic pencil cases (I lost mine). I think the scent was strawberry, but I am not sure.

*I may go and try buying some of them again. Just to smell what they smell like again.  We have this crazy idea that those fragrance beads get pregnant, and that those kisses give birth to more kisses (fragrance beads)!

Mechanical/magic pencils are also a big deal back then, and it was every child’s dream to have all those fancy pencils.

I had a laugh recalling those times. Those were the days.

I am a 90’s kid.


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the day popcorn almost burned the house down

This is one of my most epic childhood memory.

It was a day like this, a cloudy sort of rainy day when Joanna and I decided to have a cartoon marathon. We hurriedly sneaked out to buy our drinks (a 20 peso Flintstone’s punch a buy-one-take-one deal) on the convenience store near our home.

flintstones soda drink

flintstones soda drink photo from tumblr

We were particularly fond of the prehistoric punch, limestone lemonade and bedrock berry flavors. 

Since we don’t have enough money at that time to buy us snacks we decided to make our own popcorn.

We really felt that it was one awesomely genius idea at that time.

First we searched for the popcorn kernels and opened the stove, placed a wok (yes, a wok!) with some cooking oil and placed the kernels there and covered the whole thing. Pop goes the first kernel.

popcorn

Our plan is working!

More kernels popped. But we were to chicken to actually open the cover, we decided that it is best to wait till there is no more popping sound.

WRONG DECISION.

Grey smoke started to rise up from the wok! Then it turned black. We scrambled to look for the pot holders and opened the whole thing up.

Black angry puffs of smoke greeted us. The popcorn was burnt and some of it was on fire!

We turned off the stove and put on a brave front by wearing the potholders and planning to lift the whole thing up to the sink to douse the smoky mess with water.

*To add to our disaster, my nanny is sleeping. My little brother is also asleep. We were screwed big time.

photo from bgfons.com

photo from bgfons.com

We never got the mess to the sink.

It landed on the kitchen floor with a loud bang, spewing its sorry fiery contents in the white tiles. Joanna and I looked at each other and screamed! By this time, the smoke from the kitchen was a fluffy thick black consistency, spilling out to the common outdoor area we share with the neighbors. Within a few seconds the neighbors are banging at the door, with shouts that they call the fire station.

We cried.

My nanny was now awake and very furious. She quickly got a blanket doused in water and proceeded to blanket the mess. Ran to open the door and tell the neighbors, we got everything under control, and that she was sorry for the inconvenience.

No more popcorn. A possible week of no allowance, a reprimand and maybe a “time out” from friends is looming ahead when the parents got home. We drank our Flintstones drink in miserable silence.

Thankfully, my nanny let it pass. It never got to the parents.

 

Till now, Joanna and I still laugh about the burnt popcorn. Our parents never knew this popcorn incident that almost burned the house down.

We blame it all on the popcorn. We call it “baog na popcorn”.

(baog is the Filipino term for sterile, so it means sterile popcorn).