racoma.com.phJ. Angelo Racoma on technology, economics, writing, problogging, and getting things done

My mom says I’m abnormal. To make things worse, she called me a psycho!

Angelo—once a psychiatric case

Angelo, at 26, is the eldest. Naturally, being the unico hijo, our world revolved around him, ever over protective, as they say, guarding him every single second, no mosquito was allowed to be within reach. At one point in time, there were 5 helpers in the house, two dedicated to him alone, and even while asleep, he should not be left alone. We didn’t realize it, but he has became boss in the household, every single word was a command. He was pampered. And through the years, he has developed these peculiarities, like, when wearing shirts, right hand first before left; when wearing shoes, right foot first before left; shorts should be with pockets; shirts with collars; shoes should be rubber shoes (leather shoes are no no – he even was ring bearer for my brother’s wedding, all in his formal clothes and tie, wearing his red Mickey Mouse pair of shoes!).

One time, he hurt his small finger. Since then, for many weeks, no one was allowed to take off the band aid. If ever it was taken out while he was sleeping, it had to be replaced. After several weeks, we were aghast, the finger has wrinkled, the nail gangling – it was an ugly sight, so ugly that he could not look at it.

At age 2, he was already playing the piano; at age 4, he was discussing physics in school, as indicated in his progress report card. And he was the most stubborn, most angry, most spoiled brat that I knew of, and I became paranoid. I asked myself – where did I go wrong? What was I lacking at?

Check it out here on her blog.

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