Raven had noticed that, indeed, there were fewer presents under the Christmas tree this year compared to the previous years.

“Is it because I’m older so I don’t get a lot of presents anymore?” she asked.

I had to agree. It was the truth. Where before we gifted her with Legos and toys, this year it was Copic markers and stationeries. More practical stuff that she can use for her art hobby. The older she gets, the more we become conscious of the things we buy for her. Something meaningful or that serves a purpose. Quality versus quantity.

Since last year, my sister had started the tradition of giving Raven the gift of experience, whether it’s for her birthday or Christmas — the only two occasions she can legitimately ask presents for. She took Raven (and by extension, me) to Sea Life Melbourne, where Raven and I caught a train to the city to meet up with her under the clocks at Flinders Street Station.

This was the same day we went to the National Gallery of Victoria, trying to hit two birds with one stone which left me totally depleted by the time we had to catch the train back home. It was either the overwhelming busy-ness of the city or my waning tolerance for marathon social events but at any rate, I couldn’t wait to crawl back into my peaceful suburb and call it a day.

Despite all this whingeing, it was nice to catch up with my sister and watch her and Raven watch sea creatures through reinforced glass. There were fishes, of course, because it would be ridiculous not to; as well as seahorses and jellyfish and stingrays. There were also starfish that you could touch, which both kids and adults excitedly did which made me feel a bit sad for them because back in the Philippines, they’re literally everywhere!

In return, they probably felt a bit sad for me too, getting all excited about the penguins. They’re probably literally everywhere where they came from too so I guess that made us even.

When Sea Life eventually lost its novelty around the two hour mark, we hopped on a tram to go to Melbourne Central so Raven can have her overpriced Cinnamoroll fairy floss at this little cafe called Son in Law. The power of social media informing and influencing us about its existence. Obviously falling for its cuteness and justifying the price as perfectly reasonable in the name of fair wages and bloody inflation.

The cafe also had these cute-looking buns that I didn’t have the heart to buy as behind the glass counter, they looked rather sad and I wasn’t in the mood. Maybe next time. Probably not.

One of the highlights of this day was having our photos taken at the iconic Flinders Street Station Photobooth and taking part in this unassuming original historical heirloom from the 1960’s. The last one standing in Melbourne that both locals and tourists are trying to protect at all cost. (Speaking of, it’s $8 a pop and you better have coins handy.)

With the three of us squeezed inside the tiny booth space, we managed to figure out the instructions and smiled into what seemed like a shiny stainless steel mirror. Silly me didn’t even know where to look. It was only on the second shot that I figured it out.

3 minutes or so later, we had our printed black and white photos. Perfectly imperfect in that gorgeous vintage look that transcends time.

*Raven at 8 years old