How To Be The Best Third Wheel

Original Edition - Tip 18: Love a Dog Instead

"Down! Milani down!" I hear my mom yell with the sound of barking in the background.

I enter my house to see a tiny toy poodle running my way and jumping up at my leg. By toy poodle, I mean the breed. Not a toy poodle.

Before we ask why the heck there is a puppy in my home, let's backtrack.

The others came to us soon after we ate our ice creams. They actually enjoyed that sense killing movie. I don't know how or why they did, but I calculated that it must be because of those stupid love chemicals reacting within their bodies when they watched it with their significant other.

It is now approximately half past 6 and I made it just in time. I have a strict curfew when I go out (although I rarely do). I must be home by 7p.m. and no later. Meaning, no going to crazy parties. Ever. Unfortunately, my parents are not those chill parents who encourage socializing and hanging out with friends. I actually have to beg my parents to go out, contrary to other kids who can do whatever they like.

I go down and pick up the puppy who I assume is "Milani". She starts licking my cheek and I laugh.

"Mom, did you finally agree to getting me a puppy?" I ask in disbelief. I've wanted a puppy since...forever. But my parents didn't want a dog shedding fur all over the house. So I asked for a turtle. But they didn't want a turtle either and they freaked out when I asked for a snake.

So now I have a fish. Just one small fish.

My mom puts a hand on her hip and glares at me. Her other hand is holding a broom. Yup, she's been "stress cleaning". She looks so tired and her hair is a mess. "No. And I still don't understand why this nightmare," she says pointing at Milani, "is here."

"Then who does she belong to?" I wonder out loud.

"Remember Tita Lily?"

No, not really. To be fair, they've introduced the whole Filipino race to me as some sort of my relative. We could walk into Wal-Mart and my parents would point at some random guy and be like, "Oh yeah, he's your long lost third cousin." Next thing you know, a random stranger is going to go up to me and make like Darth Vader saying stuff like, "I am your father."

"Not really, no." I respond simply.

"Anyways, she's going on a business trip to Mexico for a month and she can't bring Milani." she explains.

"Then why did you agree to take care of her? I mean, you don't have the best feelings towards dogs, mom." I tell her. My mom is not an animal person. Not at all.

"I didn't." my mom grumbles.

"Then who-" I start but someone interrupts me.

"Hola ate!" Illa greets cheerfully as she runs down the stairs. "I see you've met my baby." she says as she takes Milani from my arms.

My mom gives Illa the death glare before turning to me. "Ara, I'm sure you can put the pieces together. It was not I who agreed to house this disaster but your sister who is as much of a problem as this thing."

Illa rolls her eyes. "Mom! I already apologized! Besides, dad knew that Milani was coming." Illa realizes what she just said and her eyes widen.

"Dad? He knew?" Mom questions.

My poor father has been thrown under the bus. R.I.P. dad.

"BRIAN!!!" my mom shouts so loud that I swear that the house shakes a little.

Let us have a moment of silence for my father's soul.

My mom rushes up the stairs (still holding her broom) and we hear reprimands and apologies being screamed. Illa and I brace ourselves for my mom's rampage. Not surprisingly, my dad runs down the stairs with my mom running after him and hitting him with a broom.