Moocow

Happy Birthday Mee

(which is what I call my Mummy. But I don’t call my dad dee cos that sounds weird, just in case you were wondering.)

Um, I don’t have a speech for today as of this moment (count your blessings; the good Lord has shown mercy upon you.) But I’ll try to come up with one later if something in Thai Express (or some cheap, run down restaurant my father suggests) inspires me.
Maybe I’ll get Priya to write a poem. You need to read her poems, they’re funny, especially her Ramasamy ones. Heh…

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

One of my mum’s favourite childhood stories is how she and her 6 other siblings gathered around a bowl of fishball soup and got their 2 spoonfools of soup and half a fishball. Childhood? Sounds more like hardship, doesn’t it? Well yea, it does. But…she was thankful for such morsels.

While we were at Thai Express, I was reminded of my mum’s childhood story. I realised that for all my complaints, I was not living in poverty, I had a roof over my head, food on my plate and greater liberties to pursue my own interests than my parents ever had.

Priya and I have rarely got the opportunity to go to posh restaurants. Most of the time, its home cooked food (daal, which is lentil soup with chilli and spices, chapati and yoghurt). Otherwise, its indian food at Serangoon Road which we have whined and complained and groaned about. On special ocassions, we have chicken, crab curry or something more exotic, at home.
Today, was an exception. So its no wonder why Priya and I cherish these surreal moments. But I didn’t just cherish our expedition to a fairly expensive and un-indian restaurant today because we do this once in a blue moon. I cherished it because I didn’t just get 2 spoonfools of soup and half a fishball. And more importantly, I cherished it because I have been blessed with everything I could ever ask for.

Thank you mum, for the things you’ve done for both, Priya and me. I think, most of the time, we’ve been very ungrateful because we pick on the flaws of the things you provide us with. How small, ugly, cheap or ordinary they are. We barely look at the pains you go through to get things done, or the sacrifices you have to make so we get only the best. You’ve given us so much to be proud of. So very much. You’re our hero and we love you.