"Ma... I want to seek your permission."
"What is it?" She asked.
"I'll be getting a new phone." I stood next to her bed that early morning. "But I hesitate buying the one I like because the phone is expensive."
"Get it." She orders. "Baka hindi mo na ma-afford makabili ng mamahaling cellphone next time."
Her advise got me thinking.
If there is one thing I have never outgrown, it is to consult my mom every time I make a personal purchase. Especially, if it will carve deep into my pockets, and the acquisition is more of a luxury than a practical move.
Part of the reason was my upbringing. I was raised to discern the value of my possessions. When I was a kid and wanted to buy a new die cast toy car or an Ultraman action figure, my mom pressed me with benevolent persuasion. It was meant to weigh my purchasing decision.
"Practical ba yan?" She would ask.
"Hindi ba puwedeng next time na lang natin bilhin iyan?"
The habit was carried over to adulthood.
So even when I had the money, I hardly spend on bling. I don't have tablets or expensive phones, like my friends. All my earnings go first to savings. The mobile phones I owned were either freebies from my post-paid phone subscription, or hand-me-downs. In fact, the first phone ever given to me was an Ericsson GF788. I was in college at that time and Nokia 3210 was the status symbol. My dad could afford it and yet, I was sending and receiving SMS on a handset, whose tiny LCD screen made long texts difficult to read.
It was his old phone and it doesn't matter. I was into desktop computers to bother myself with the latest trends.
Before I'd step out of the university, he would pass over to me a Nokia 3310.
Returning to the present, the decision to get a new phone only took a day. It was a Saturday, I remember, and instead of working at home, I was in Megamall to get my first-ever, paid hand-held device. Sure, there are bills to pay, a Christmas season approaching and unseen spending that may come my way. But because I already had my mom's approval; the go-signal from the only person I would trust with my money, indulgence was no longer a source of guilt.
Switching on my Samsung Galaxy Mini for the last time, a few press of the button and it crashed before I can even access the applications.
"Hopeless." I shook my head.
"A new phone has indeed become a necessary expense."
-tobecontinued-
"Practical ba yan?" She would ask.
"Hindi ba puwedeng next time na lang natin bilhin iyan?"
The habit was carried over to adulthood.
So even when I had the money, I hardly spend on bling. I don't have tablets or expensive phones, like my friends. All my earnings go first to savings. The mobile phones I owned were either freebies from my post-paid phone subscription, or hand-me-downs. In fact, the first phone ever given to me was an Ericsson GF788. I was in college at that time and Nokia 3210 was the status symbol. My dad could afford it and yet, I was sending and receiving SMS on a handset, whose tiny LCD screen made long texts difficult to read.
It was his old phone and it doesn't matter. I was into desktop computers to bother myself with the latest trends.
Before I'd step out of the university, he would pass over to me a Nokia 3310.
Returning to the present, the decision to get a new phone only took a day. It was a Saturday, I remember, and instead of working at home, I was in Megamall to get my first-ever, paid hand-held device. Sure, there are bills to pay, a Christmas season approaching and unseen spending that may come my way. But because I already had my mom's approval; the go-signal from the only person I would trust with my money, indulgence was no longer a source of guilt.
Switching on my Samsung Galaxy Mini for the last time, a few press of the button and it crashed before I can even access the applications.
"Hopeless." I shook my head.
 |
| Ndoto Blue on Samsung Galaxy Mini |
"A new phone has indeed become a necessary expense."
-tobecontinued-
1 comment:
your love and respect for your mom really shows. some stop asking advice when they've think they've grown up. but it's a good sign that you continue to do so.
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