That's a story to tell my grandchildren.

Hi.

I know, I know, I can see all the dust here thanks to me for not posting anything.

I really wished I could use 'getting abducted by aliens' or 'pinned down by an enormous godzilla' or something like that as a reason for my absence but since I can not, here I am, apologizing for, like, the zillionth time to all my readers (and maybe those who used to be).

So, what am I going to talk about here?

Okay, here goes.

Last Saturday was the last day of school before holiday, on which the students with their mums and dads receive the school report for the semester—the student's, of course, not the mums and dads—and get home either happy or sad, depending on the result.

Me? Well, as the—uh, stupidest student in my school, surely I didn't give too much thought about it. So I went to my class at school with Mum and my little brother, and we sat down. Mum and I were wondering how's the result going to be.

"Black or red?" Mum asked.

(note: if the numbers are red, it means below average, but I don't know if they still use that symbol in school reports anymore. So why did my Mum ask that? As Squidward says, "How should I know? Ask my mother!")

I was going to reply her with "How about pink?" but I stopped after considering how feminine that question would sound.

"Let's just wait and see" was my reply.

After seeing my classmates came and went, it's my turn to get the report. My classmaster, Mrs. Retno, was smiling at me and Mum. There are three thoughts that slipped into my mind at the time:

One, I'd got good grades.
Two, that was a grin, hinting that my report sucked.
Three, she thinks I'm handsome.

All right, I made up the last one. There's no way she thinks I'm handsome; I mean, everyone KNOWS I am.

Ehem.

Anyway, so there we sat, talking about the weather, the sale at Grand Indonesia, and how cool Irfan Bachdim is—that's obviously not it, I was just testing you. Mum asked how I behaved at school and stuff and Mrs. Retno replied with the typical "Oh there's nothing wrong he's a good boy" and all. A moment later,

"Oh, and do let me congratulate you, Bobby," Mrs. Retno said with that very smile she showed just then.

"What for, ma'am?" asked I. I hardly held the temptation to add "Have I won a lottery that gives me free trip to England and two million Euros?"

"You ranked first of all science classes, paralleled!" said Mrs. Retno cheerfully.

My heart thumped.
I felt my belly hurt.
At first I thought it was because of the surprise but then I found out my brother was punching my belly for no reason.

"Re-really?" I asked, shocked.

"Wow, great job, Bobby!" Mum claimed.

"Yes, hold on to it!" Mrs. Retno added.

"Buy me an ice cream!" my brother yelled. Bro, you're so out-of-topic.

So I examined my report and, well, it was quite satisfying. But I, the stupid old me, as the first? That's a story to tell my grandchildren. Not that I've already had them, of course.

After a little more chitchat, Mum, my brother, and I left the classroom and went back home.

"So, it is black after all, yeah?" Mum asked rhetorically. I just put a smile on my face as the answer.

Even so,
I'd still prefer pink. Uhm.