Case of Mistaken Identity

As far as blunders go, leave it to a couple of the 1970s teen-aged Bilbao cousins—the ordinarily well-mannered Jimmyboy B., and that other, distinctly more impish fellow—to pull a doozy.

In the gloom of twilight—shortly after the legendary ‘Happy Valley’ sunset had set—strolling along a pathway, the two cousins caught sight of another cousin, the dainty, prim and proper Vicky G.,  heading towards them in a hurried stride as the first hint of rain fell.

Mischievous to the core with vestiges of gentility long smothered in the heady, youthful abandon of summer, they impulsively contrived to scare her.  So behind a couple of coconut trees, they lay in wait, poised to spring out at her at the precise moment.  At least, that was the plan.

Clad in a then-fashionable muumuu, Vicky stepped livelier as the rain’s intensity gained.  Sure enough, when she was just a few arm-lengths away, the lads jumped out with a holler.

Bingo!  She screamed in out-and-out fright, jumping two steps backward and nearly falling flat!

The antic would’ve been perfect but for one tiny detail.  It wasn’t their cousin Vicky who had fallen prey to their adolescent terror act.  It was their Aunt Tessie!

In the split-second of realizing who their victim was, the conniving duo jointly let out an embarrassed, palpably guilty yelp of their own.

Oops, Sorry Tita, Sorry… abi namon si Vicky ka.” [ “Sorry Auntie, we thought you were Vicky”] they sheepishly pleaded for mercy.

To which the refined, ever-the-lady, former Hinoba-an Mayor, without the slightest hint of annoyance, replied: 

Hay ka sabad sa inyo…” [ “Gosh, you guys are such peeves”].

With what could only be described was utter grace, their Aunt Tessie began chuckling at their whopping boo-boo and soon had them rolling with laughter as they scurried to the nearest house for cover.

The amiable Jimmy B., sans shenanigans...

The amiable Jimmyboy B., sans shenanigans…


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