Episode 1: My Simple Routine

301 Words
My name is Karl Flores. I'm 17 years old, from Puerto Galera, Oriental Mindoro. My day starts at 5:30 AM. No alarm. I wake up to Nanay's voice in the kitchen. " Karl, anak, gising na! " Our canteen is also our home. It's small — just 10 tables, 2 electric fans, and a faded sign that says "Flores Eatery." But we run it together as a family. Nanay is already cooking their rice and chopping onions for the sisig. Tatay is outside fixing the chairs and sweeping the front. Ate is arranging the softdrinks in the cooler. My little brother is still half-asleep, wiping the tables. And me? I'm the taga-help. I help everywhere. I help Tatay carry the tables outside. I help Nanay wash the dishes and prepare the plates, spoons, and glasses. At 7 AM, Nanay lets me cook the sisig — my favorite part. That _tsssss_ sound when it hits the hot plate. She taught me herself. We eat breakfast together behind the canteen — just the family, simple rice, egg, and sisig, before the customers come. We laugh because Tatay's old fan fell again. When tourists come, we all move. Nanay cooks, Tatay takes orders, Ate serves, and I wash dishes and bring water. We're busy, but it's fun because we're together. In the quiet afternoon when there are no customers, we all rest together. I fix a wobbly chair while Tatay tells stories. I check my old phone and watch food vloggers, thinking "Can I do that too to help our canteen?" At 6 PM, we close together. We count the money in a small plastic box together. Not much, but enough. And enough is good when you're together. This is my simple life. Not alone. With my family, our small canteen, and the beach.
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