If you’ve had enough of the Christmas season’s honey-glazed ham, the fat-covered pata tim, the toyomansi-dipped crispy pata, and the reddish brown lechon roasted to perfection, then welcome aboard. Ever since I hit 40, I’ve started to cut down on anything that causes my blood pressure to behave erratically.
Actually, it all began when my cardiologist gave me a simple longevity plan:
No more late nights endlessly flipping the cable channels. Wear your rubber shoes and hit the road regularly. Take your anti-hypertensive maintenance medicines for life. And the last and most important among the doctor’s orders —
Don’t let pork ever touch your lips again.
“Why do you keep eating pork?” he inquired, while doing the routine check-up on me.
I was tempted to argue this way: “Hello, Doc, okay ka lang? ‘Di ka pa ba nakatikim ng malutong na balat ng lechon na sinawsaw sa sarsa ng Mang Tomas?”
But he followed up with another question: “What does a pig eat anyway?”
“Kanin baboy po,” I replied.
“Yun naman pala eh. Bakit ka kumakain ng baboy?”
End of argument. I had a feeling he was actually a trial lawyer with a stethoscope hanging around his neck.
Determined to keep my kids healthy early on, I used my doctor’s line of argument on them. While they were enjoying pork barbecue one evening, I asked: “Kids, why do you eat pork?”
I got astonished looks that seemed to say: ““Hello, Dad, okay ka lang? ‘Di ka pa ba nakatikim ng Jun-Jun’s Barbecue na may magic sauce?”
So I shifted to a reverse gear.
“Kids, where does pork come from?”
“From the pig,” they exclaimed in unison.
“And what do pigs eat?” I asked again.
I waited for a few seconds, eager to drop the same nuclear bomb that my cardiologist dropped on me. Sweet revenge was in the bag.
Then my kids said: “Uh, ah… we don’t know what pigs eat, Dad. You tell us.”
Grrr! This is what a dad gets for not taking his kids to a guided tour of the piggery.
“Kanin Baboy!” I announced, careful not to show any sign of being beaten to the draw.
Then, my only son, Vicoe, asked: “Dad, what’s Kanin Baboy?”
Grrr! Enough of playing lawyer with a stethoscope! It was time to be irreverent.
“Kids, you know, in the Bible, there was a story about…”
Everybody stopped chewing. “Gotcha this time!” I mumbled to myself.
I continued: “There was this story in the Bible where two men were possessed by demons. They lived in a cemetery and were so violent that no one could go through that area. When they saw Jesus, they began screaming at him, and asked Jesus to cast them out and send them into the herd of pigs nearby. Then Jesus commanded them, ‘Go!’ So the demons came out of the men and entered the pigs.”
The kids’ jaws dropped.
“Then what happened, Dad?”
“I don’t know what happened next. But, tell me: where did the demons go?” I probed.
“The demons entered the body of the pigs,” they chimed.
Then I said: “Why are you eating pork then?”
Astounded, my four school-aged kids immediately laid their hands on the pork barbecue on the dinner table, closed their eyes, and prayed: “Jesus, drive the demons away from this barbecue.”
And that’s how we were able to practice abstinence beyond Good Friday.
Once in a while, though, we get nutritionally naughty, and eat the ham and bacon that’s strewn on top of the thin crust pizza. We also occasionally gorge on sizzling sisig sprinkled with kalamansi.
But after our kids exorcise the pork, we all pray for the cleansing of our hearts.
Because that’s where hurting words spring forth from.
Quote for the week:
“Anything you eat passes through the stomach
and then goes into the sewer.
But the words you speak come from the heart
—that’s what defiles you.
(Matthew 15: 17-18, NLT)
Actually, it all began when my cardiologist gave me a simple longevity plan:
No more late nights endlessly flipping the cable channels. Wear your rubber shoes and hit the road regularly. Take your anti-hypertensive maintenance medicines for life. And the last and most important among the doctor’s orders —
Don’t let pork ever touch your lips again.
“Why do you keep eating pork?” he inquired, while doing the routine check-up on me.
I was tempted to argue this way: “Hello, Doc, okay ka lang? ‘Di ka pa ba nakatikim ng malutong na balat ng lechon na sinawsaw sa sarsa ng Mang Tomas?”
But he followed up with another question: “What does a pig eat anyway?”
“Kanin baboy po,” I replied.
“Yun naman pala eh. Bakit ka kumakain ng baboy?”
End of argument. I had a feeling he was actually a trial lawyer with a stethoscope hanging around his neck.
Determined to keep my kids healthy early on, I used my doctor’s line of argument on them. While they were enjoying pork barbecue one evening, I asked: “Kids, why do you eat pork?”
I got astonished looks that seemed to say: ““Hello, Dad, okay ka lang? ‘Di ka pa ba nakatikim ng Jun-Jun’s Barbecue na may magic sauce?”
So I shifted to a reverse gear.
“Kids, where does pork come from?”
“From the pig,” they exclaimed in unison.
“And what do pigs eat?” I asked again.
I waited for a few seconds, eager to drop the same nuclear bomb that my cardiologist dropped on me. Sweet revenge was in the bag.
Then my kids said: “Uh, ah… we don’t know what pigs eat, Dad. You tell us.”
Grrr! This is what a dad gets for not taking his kids to a guided tour of the piggery.
“Kanin Baboy!” I announced, careful not to show any sign of being beaten to the draw.
Then, my only son, Vicoe, asked: “Dad, what’s Kanin Baboy?”
Grrr! Enough of playing lawyer with a stethoscope! It was time to be irreverent.
“Kids, you know, in the Bible, there was a story about…”
Everybody stopped chewing. “Gotcha this time!” I mumbled to myself.
I continued: “There was this story in the Bible where two men were possessed by demons. They lived in a cemetery and were so violent that no one could go through that area. When they saw Jesus, they began screaming at him, and asked Jesus to cast them out and send them into the herd of pigs nearby. Then Jesus commanded them, ‘Go!’ So the demons came out of the men and entered the pigs.”
The kids’ jaws dropped.
“Then what happened, Dad?”
“I don’t know what happened next. But, tell me: where did the demons go?” I probed.
“The demons entered the body of the pigs,” they chimed.
Then I said: “Why are you eating pork then?”
Astounded, my four school-aged kids immediately laid their hands on the pork barbecue on the dinner table, closed their eyes, and prayed: “Jesus, drive the demons away from this barbecue.”
And that’s how we were able to practice abstinence beyond Good Friday.
Once in a while, though, we get nutritionally naughty, and eat the ham and bacon that’s strewn on top of the thin crust pizza. We also occasionally gorge on sizzling sisig sprinkled with kalamansi.
But after our kids exorcise the pork, we all pray for the cleansing of our hearts.
Because that’s where hurting words spring forth from.
Quote for the week:
“Anything you eat passes through the stomach
and then goes into the sewer.
But the words you speak come from the heart
—that’s what defiles you.
(Matthew 15: 17-18, NLT)
