mummified
mmph. im blogging again. is that a good sign? yes. when i have dance tmr and my math tutorial is angry at me and im sleepy? no.
but. here i am.
my burfdae came and went. thanks to everyone who made it so special just by noeing me and being my fren. it was my bestest burfdae ever. (HMMM i say this every year. kinda makes me look forward to my 80th burfdae.) thanks to donkey, its been a whopping 2 months and counting :D i've said it all and i dun want to. em. abuse u on my blog. (<3<3<3<3<3<3)
am i supposed to be having so much fun on the year of my A's?
mother's day is coming next month, but likely i wont be able to blog till then. oh well.
THE MOTHER
1) the born-talented performer from your childhood days who dances, sings, pulls faces and recites poetry to make you laugh/ stop your crying which (come on, admit it) was meant to make her do all that stuff.
2) the lone soul on the planet who has the license (read: audacity) to say you're fat and need to loose weight and get away with it. i mean,
she's the one who makes your favourite baked cheese pasta every sunday right?
3) also the one who can call your room a pig sty. and come
this close to saying you've just sprouted a snout without suffering a painful death by the hair of your chinny-chin-chin.
4) the teacher who believes you are a future P.hD holder and never stops believing it until you're grey and toothy and too weak to carry a schoolbag to Harvard.
5) the woman in your house who takes an hour to make a point, another hour to comment on your body lanuage while she's making her point, and yet another grouching about her wasting her time on you while she could be doing the dishes.
6) the cushion who wants to always be there when your kleenex has run out. this explains the perpetual all-too-common disdain of your mother for the stuffed toys beside your bed. (she says its because they collect dust but, oh mum, we know.)
7) the lady who marries you off to a rich guy, sends you off in your cinderella couch on your wedding day sobbing into a floral handkerchief, then goes home, jumps on the kitchen table and does the can-can.
love you mummy :0) i promise to be just like you after my mummification.
