Describe your father.

This was one of the questions I was asked in an interview for a position I applied for in a prestigious auditing firm in Ayala, Makati sometime in 1986 or 1987.

Describe your father.

It’s not really a question. It’s an imperative sentence.

The interviewer was requesting me to describe my father. I knew that my acceptance to the firm I so longed to belong would depend on how I answer this question.

What does my father have to do with my job? Oh, I know. They want to know how I was raised. They want to know about my relationship with my father.

It should have been so easy to answer because I had been very fond of my father. I was daddy’s little girl.

I remember he used to make a lot of jokes. There was this trick that he pulled up on me and my sister. He pretended that he picked his nose with his index finger. Then he would lick his middle finger. He did it so quickly that we thought he licked the finger that was just up his nose. He always got a good laugh from us.

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