IT was an inadvertence, of course. Stressed by multifarious worries endemic in the holiday rush, I nonetheless struggled to beat the three-day advance deadline for my December 24, Sunday, column going into the last 10 minutes to six o’clock that Thursday afternoon. My one-year-old granddaughter, Cyon, child of my eldest son Maoie, had her first birth anniversary celebration together with her baptism the Friday before, and I had about consumed for the occasion all but a few bills of my ready cash during the period, and where would I get the money for my coming concerns, like the nuptials of my second youngest sister Violeta’s only daughter Jessa with sweetheart Darryl, and the persistent reminders from kin and friends about the day of gift-giving called Christmas? Of course, it was Darryl who did a mighty yeoman job for the wedding a day before Christmas Eve, but a couple of thousand peso bills pinned to Jessa’s sash while Darryl swayed her in that special dance is a no mean gift, I tell you.