My mother got home from England yesterday. Since that she left the country and left me home with her husband and youngest son to clean up after them for over a week (barely managed not to get the house to fall apart, starting with the kitchen sink) my inner b**ch was ready to dump everything into her travel-weary hand and leave me to play Tradewinds 2.
But she had a sore throat from the cold of England and possibly carrying some air-borne traveler’s flu. And she also got me souvenirs. Three tubes of salami, chicken, beef and spicy, better than any you’ll ever find in a Malaysian supermarket. And so for this blog entry, I ate my crap before I could have it.
Amongst family members, *Mak is the least person I’ll spout and rant about. It would have been quite different say, year and years ago when she hadn’t joined any charity group or Good-Bye Aunties’ groupies. I suppose there some sense into the madness of tart-tongued old ladies and their high-teas that made Mak less a working mother and somewhat a mellower mother.
Advantageous for me at least, because with her, I could share some crap-about-my-day stories which I couldn’t share with anyone else. Like my thesis report and that I got a presentation next Monday (December 3rd 2007) but of course I didn’t go into detail about me possibly failing the paper.
Mak is more sympathetic than my father when it comes to my failures, partially because she had been living with *Ayah for over 30 years and prior to that, she was the eldest girl in a family of nine brothers and sisters (yes, both Aidilfitri and Aidil’Adha holidays are a riot but that’s another story).
Other than that she got home with chocolate and three A+ Grade English salami which I loved (2 of them were over a foot long!). Which is not to say that she didn’t have her moments of b**chery at times. Like when it was her fault that we’re both becoming late on our way trip to Pontian (her hometown) and she took it out on me, seeing that I was the only other passenger.
At the moment for now, she’s probably cooking or cleaning up the mess Ayah and my younger brother made. She’s always cooking or cleaning, one part because no one else would, one part because she’s the woman of the house and one part because it’s her second nature. Eldest sister of nine brothers and sisters always have a habit in cooking and cleaning since coming from the backwaters of Pontian, JB.
My mess? It’s all in my own room thank you very much, which all mothers know that it’s highly territorial to volatile-tempered undergraduate students. I suppose that’s why she brought me home juicy salami.
0 Minds bloomed here too...:
Post a Comment