Merry Christmas and a Bountiful New Year to all, especially to our brothers and sisters in the Missionary Families of Christ (MFC)! The same goes to all who sent greetings either personally or through email and social media, including Cong. Jose “Bong” Teves, Gov. Joseph Cua, Vice Gov. Peter Cua, the Virac Sports Club membership, Philippine National Red Cross Catanduanes Chapter, Catanduanes Mapua Cardinals consisting of MIT alumni from the province, the Salabat Club, the Catanduanes Island Media Club (minus two), Catanduanes Colleges High School Batch ’79, Jubilarians 2022, Monthly Society, Catanduanes Association of Municipal Engineers, Virac Employees Credit Cooperative, and a number whom I might have failed to mention.
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The font size of the news text in this last issue of the Tribune this 2023 is slightly bigger, is about five percent larger. This is in response to the request of some loyal readers who are having difficulty reading the text, especially when the print quality is not exactly one we all desire.
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Our sincere apologies to Bagamanoc Councilor Rizalino Ayala for our failure to correct in time the error in the publication of the municipality’s ordinance in the past three issues. The soft copy sent to our office had the correct name of the honorable Ayala in the attendance portion but was incorrectly spelled as “Rizalito” in the latter part.
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THE CHRISTMAS HANGOVER. Bill woke up with a killer hangover after attending his firm’s Christmas Party.
He didn’t even remember how he got home. Confused he tried to gather his thoughts, “It’s 8.30. What day is it? Thursday. The wife must have gone to work.”
As he struggled into consciousness through the fog of a pounding headache, his heart sank as he wondered what the hell he did last night.
He forced himself to open his eyes, and the first thing he saw was a couple of aspirins next to a glass of water on the side table.
And, next to them, a little vase of sweet peas, freshly picked from the garden.
He sat up. The bedroom was clean and tidy; there was no trail of drunkenly abandoned clothes, fresh air was coming in through the window and all was serene.
He stumbled to the bathroom, which was also pristine, and, squinting gingerly into the mirror, saw that he had a black eye.
This was not a good sign, but no memories were returning.
As he concentrated hard on getting the world into focus, he saw a post-it note stuck on the corner of the mirror. It was written in red, with little hearts on it and a kiss from his wife. “I’ll ring your office and tell them you won’t be in today. Breakfast is in the oven. Try to eat something and go back to bed for the morning. There’s sport on TV this afternoon. Take it easy today, hope your eye doesn’t hurt too much. See you tonight. I love you, darling! Love, Alison.”
Bill stumbled to the kitchen and sure enough, there was hot breakfast, steaming hot coffee and the newspaper.
His teenage son was sitting at the table, eating. Bill, bracing himself for the worst, asked his son what happened the previous night.
His son said, “Well, you came home after 3 in the morning, drunk and out of your mind. You fell over the coffee table and broke it, and then you puked in the hallway. You got that black eye when you ran into the door.”
Bill was confused as he asked his son, “So, why is everything in such perfect order, aspirins by the bed, a nice note from Mom and breakfast waiting for me?”
His son replied, “Oh, that! Well you see, Mom dragged you to the bedroom, and when she tried to take your trousers off, you screamed, ‘Leave me alone, I’m married!!’”