It was the usual Sunday family lunch at Brother Andrew’s [ Lola Charing's ], and we all usually recounted what had happened the last week…
I reported: “I was in Apalit [ Pampanga ] a few days ago because I had to do something. While there, I visited the cemetery and prayed for our dead.”
“That’s good. How’s everything there?” Brother Andrew inquired.
“Everything’s alright. Poor Lolo Forting, they’ve installed his ‘lapida’ [ tombstone ]. It says ‘Poet Laureate of Pampanga’.”
“But he was really a poet. Nothing wrong with that.” countered Brother Andrew.
“You should see how it’s spelled, Brother…”
“How?” asked Brother Andrew, a wicked, expectant smile on his face.
“Poet L-A-U-R-I-A-T of Pampanga, Brother. Chinese LAURIAT not L-A-U-R-E-A-T-E!!!”
“LAURIAT???!!! POET LAURIAT???!!! Ahahahahahah!!!” Brother Andrew asked in disbelief, his eyes wide open. His food went up to his nose and he was convulsed laughing.
[ As National Museum Director Corazon "Cora" Alvina very wittily quipped at that time: "THAT'S A PAIN IN THE POET!!!" ]