She starts the day by pretending that my sinigang isn’t too sour, my caldereta not too spicy, and my fried fish not swimming in salt. Eyes watering, she insists I enroll in culinary arts then downs three glasses of water when she thinks I’m not looking.

She claims to have forgotten the story of when I was chased by a pack of dogs all the way to the next barrio. Or when we almost got kidnapped by a stranger who promised to teach us Kung Fu. She listens for the hundredth time as we laugh about our childhood adventures. Then she claims to forget them again the following week.

She talks about our awards like they are better than Olympic gold. Even the embarrassing ones. Especially the embarrassing ones. Like the Thank You For Participating Award. Or the Most Behaved During Naptime Award.

She agrees that my crush is the most awesome person in the world because he’s smart and funny and different (unlike the 265 crushes before him). You can almost believe that she hasn’t heard all of this crap before.

She feigns belief that I really wanted to take the board exam but circumstances just didn’t allow it.

She acts like we never fight, that I don’t answer back, and that I never say un-publishable things to her.

So what do I do? Do I tell her that I know what she’s up to? That I’ve known about her lying ways ever since she said Tempra Forte tastes like yummy strawberries and vaccine is parang kagat lang ng langgam?

No.

I let her think she has the acting prowess of her idol, Vilma Santos. That I enjoy being out of my element in the kitchen so she can rest from household chores. That I can’t really fight her off when she tries to hug me in public. That I’m not secretly thankful about her selective memory.

Even if we both know I put too much soup base in the sinigang, that crushes are purely hormonal, and that the board exam… is a quickly fading dream.

Looks like I’m a pathological liar too. Maybe it’s hereditary.