She's a cold hearted snake, oh.
My mother is such an unsentimental woman.
During my primary school days, when I was less cynical and full of love, I made her cards for Mother's Day, remind her with gifts for her birthday, and feel happy for her on her wedding anniversary. It wasn't until my late teens that I realised she never kept any of them. So I stopped remembering her birthdays and bought my Grandma gifts for Mother's Day instead. Even Christmas. I don't remember seeing her use any of the things I bought her (or my dad. jeez these heartless people). The only time they were really thrilled with my present was when I bought them a pair of watches. Seeing how excited and pleased they were about it, I kept mum about the $20 I gave up reluctantly to the desperate salesman who sold it to me.
I just came across a drawing her beloved niece drew for her in my mum's recipe file. I thought : Awww. But when I went up for a closer look, she had the recipe of a Nonya dish scribbled all over it. Sigh. If only I were like her. (Only in this sense, please.)
Labels: Dear Diary
smudgi3 @ 8:56:00 pm | Permalink | |
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