A GeneStory

Yesterday was a good day. I was at home just reading, writing, and watching endless videos of Elmo with Baby S.

Cradling Baby S in my arms, I am reminded of a conversation I had with my daughter a week or so ago. We were in my bedroom, with Baby S climbing in and out of my bed, and we got to talking about who the little crawler looks like. You see, E is deathly scared that Baby S would eventually inherit her dad's very distinctive nose. No, he is not pango, as most Pinoys are. No, he just has a set of nostrils that are quite big in proportion to the rest of his face, malapad is how Pinoys would put it.

It's still to early to tell, I assure her. And if Baby S's nose happens to resemble those of her father's well, we cannot do anything about that anymore. It's all in the genes -- like how she got her father's curly hair and my brown skin; or how she and her brothers K and F got my poor eyesight; or how F and K look more like their father and how S and E look more like me; or how F and K seem more fair-skinned like my mother, their grandmother.

Small as she is, Baby S is already starting to show bits and pieces of her parents. She has her mom's curly, wavy hair but her dad's droopy eyes. She has her mom's tiny lips but increasingly, her dad's not so bitty nose. I look at her, pitter-pattering all over my room and I wonder out loud, "What did she get from me?" "Your skin," my daughter says promptly. "I wish she'd get my brains," I said but I truly hope that she never inherits my heart. Because now, as always, I am crazy stupid when it comes to matters of the heart. That's one kind of stupid I hope my granddaughter never suffers from :)