Yesterday, I brought back a small bottle of Twister orange juice because my brother had asked for it. Asna, who’s been having an upset stomach the whole day, asked for some. He shoved her toward my direction and made her state her request to me.
“Ask Cikyong. Cikyong, Asna nak something.”
He pushed her forward.
“Say what you wanted to say.”
She was unsure whether she should proceed, but she said it anyway.
“Uhm… Cikyong, can I have some of the orange juice?”
“You have a stomach ache.”
“But my stomach doesn’t hurt anymore.”
I wasn’t convinced.
“Okay. Tell you what. If you drink the orange juice, there is a possibility that you will get another stomach ache that will last until 7AM. Are you willing to drink this juice and take the risk?”
She looked past me, imagining probably.
“No, no, no. I don’t think I want orange juice!”
Then, she sped off to my parents’ room.
We were laughing at how easy it was to handle her. My brother took out a glass for me, poured and shared the orange juice. I drank about half of the bottle. Life is good, I thought.
But karma’s a bitch. Because I ended up having a stomach ache until 7AM and had to take time off from work to go to a clinic. FML.