Not so lost in Translation

It was one of those nights on skype, aimless chatting, parents, mothers, filipino mothers, neurotic filipino mothers, the parallels of myself and Leah's filipino friend and how both our mothers have caused the destruction of doors, my bedroom door, her bathroom door, 50-year-old filipino grannies hiring a stripper for someone's 50th and wondering why the stripper's aparatus wasn't going up, phobias.

Phobias.

Her phobia: fruits.

Apples, oranges, sweet luscious fruits, apple cores, McDonald's orange juice.

Laughing fit, the giggles, hysteric histrionics, hyperventilation.

Apnolla.

Ahp-nohl-la.

Apnolla.