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I share all my sporadic and toilet thoughts in here, because I am random like that.
Possibly Gran’s most interesting birthday
My grandmother turned 88 today.
After a huge dinner with the rest of the extended family – including my 9 uncles and aunts with their spouses, children (my cousins) and their children’s children (err, quite a number of my cousins have their own families too) – we gathered around a row of tables for the mandatory (out of tune) birthday song and cake.
And that was when the drama began.
Little Luke – my older cousin’s three-year old son – bounced happily on my grandmother’s lap, clapping and waving his hands around wildly while the rest of the members of the new generation (more of my cousins’ kids – comprising another three-year old boy, two one-year old girls and one eight-year old dude) looked on.
Till now, I can’t get over how noisy little kids can be. They look so cute and innocent in small, bite-sized packages, until they open their mouths and … OH. MY. GOODNESS.
Oh yeah, I digressed.
Little Luke eventually couldn’t hold back the sight of the huge cream-filled cake in front of him, leaned forward and glomped down an entire mouthful of strawberry cream straight off the cake.
The response from the rest of the extended family looking on was a mixture of surprised yelps and some laughter. Little Luke, obviously pleased with the response he got, flashed a cream-smothered grin and proceeded to bend over the cake for a second mouthful.
My older cousin eventually responded (where was she the first time round?!) by running forward and grabbing the little fellow before he could attempt a third round. But alas, attempting to restrain Little Luke was a major struggle. Even with her firm grip on Luke, the latter had still managed to brush the tip of his tongue against the cake for his third helping of cream.
The extended family had eventually decide to ignore the little cream-obsessed monster and launched into an off-tune version of ‘Happy Birthday’, followed by a shower of saliva spray as members of the new generation (the little kids) blew out the candles.
Little Luke continued to bounce around on my grandmother’s lap, clapping his hands happily and flashing his (still cream-filled) grin at everyone around.
In the midst of the din around, my grandmother suddenly gave a yell. This was soon followed by another yell, and finally an extended call of distress.
Some of us dashed over, only to spot a huge wet patch of I-don’t-know-what on her right pant leg. Some of the sliminess was dripping off Little Luke’s right arm. Puke? We didn’t know. Little Luke was still happily bouncing around on my grandmother’s left leg while my grandmother continued to whine.
A few seconds later, Little Luke flashed another grin. This time, his grin was peppered with a mixture of strawberry cream and some remnants of puke. Plus, the stench was beginning to diffuse around the room like wildfire.
I could no longer see up-close what was going on at the scene because by then, I had already backed up at least twenty-feet away from the source of that offending stench (Little Luke and my grandmother’s soaked pant leg). Geez, I totally hated the stench of puke.
The birthday lady and the little puking machine were quickly escorted to the toilets for a quick clean-up while the waiters at the restaurant took the cake away for slicing.
Considering Little Luke’s close proximity to the cake, nobody actually knows whether he had puked on the cake or not. But from the looks of it, everyone is assuming he did because everyone was suddenly so reluctant to eat the cake after that.
Me? I didn’t touch a single slice.
Um, Happy Birthday to my Grandmother anyway.
And what’s an extended family gathering without some drama?
Grey areas in perception
So, apparently I’ve been taking waaay too much chocolate during the last few days in Vancouver – no thanks to my aunt’s seemingly endless chocolate supply and not to mention how chocolate is really, really cheap here.
It was during two of these chocolate-gobbling sessions where I noticed that there are many ways I can perceive situations, especially concerning other people’s intentions.
Scenario 1
En route to Whistler Mountains with the rest of the family in a rented jeep, my aunt was passing chocolate supplies around as she normally would during a long road trip.
I received a packet of Maltesers (mmm, one of my favourites). In front of me, the younger cousin had just received a bar of Lindt 70% dark chocolate.
A coupla’ seconds later, the younger cousin turned around and offered to trade his chocolate with me.
“Brenda, you want?” he asked, holding out the Lindt bar. “I know that you love dark chocolate!”
I was really, really touched at first – because he remembered that I love dark chocolate more than any other types. (And men in general are really good at forgetting these things.) So I accepted the Lindt bar and began chomping gleefully.
Nomming my chocolate bar and gazing out at the scenery outside, it suddenly struck me that I had conveniently overlooked one fact – that the younger cousin hated dark chocolate, but also loved Maltesers … quite possibly more than I do.
So, there are two ways of looking at this.
A. The younger cousin offered his dark chocolate to me because he knows that I love dark chocolate and that I would definitely enjoy it more than he would.
B. He offered to trade his dark chocolate only because he himself hated it, and wanted Maltesers instead.
Mmm, something to think about.
Scenario 2
A continuation of Scenario 1. So, I’ve finished gobbling up the last bit of the Lindt bar just as the jeep pulled into the petrol station for a gas top-up.
As the younger cousin hopped off the jeep to the convenience store at the gas station for a top-up of munchies, I requested that he help me get another Lindt bar. Ten minutes later, he returned and passed me an extra-large bar of Lindt 70% dark chocolate, two times the size of the standard bar I was munching on before.
So I expressed shock, because I definitely couldn’t finish all of it. “It’s okay, eat it slowly,” was his reply.
Again, there are two ways of looking at it.
A. He bought the extra-large chocolate bar because he knows I love dark chocolate (as in, seriously!) and so, decided to get me a supply that can last me a couple of days at least.
B. He bought the extra-large chocolate bar because it was much cheaper to buy in bulk (or larger sizes), rather than a single, standard-size Lindt bar. So he saves money that way, just in case I end up asking him for even more Lindt bars.
If the above scenarios happened to you, which one would you choose?
For me, I chose option A for both – because despite how the younger cousin has his share of annoying (and occasionally, selfish – but who doesn’t?) moments, I know he really, really, really cares for me a lot and would basically go out of his way to make me happy.
If he is in the mood to, at least. Heh.
Ice-cream monster
[Written at 2.20 P.M. (17th May) Singapore time, 11:20 P.M. (16th May) Vancouver time.]
With repeated nagging from mum to abstain from ice-cream prior to the trip (because she’s oh-so paranoid that I’d fall sick), I did my best to. It was a really trying experience, though – because I really love ice-cream and temptation was everywhere.
But now that I am finally in Vancouver, and presented with Sara’s old-fashioned ice cream, I jumped in with a scoop each of cotton candy and cookie dough.
Oom, nom, nom, nom.
It was yummy, by the way. Tasty, yet not too sweet.
Extremely friendly ice-cream for my slightly diabetic grandmother too. (;
Vancouver’s really nice so far. We’re surrounded by snow-capped mountains visible in the distance from almost all directions. Weather’s pretty awesome too – a good respite from the recent sauna-like weather we’ve been having in Singapore.
I found myself automatically waking up at 5 this morning as the sun was streaming in through the windows (the sun rises really early here in the summer) and couldn’t get back to sleep. Gotta’ start getting used to this, man – I’m going to have to deal with light in my face for the next month or so. (I am too used to sleeping in dark environments.)
We’re driving down to Seattle tomorrow for some good, solid factory-outlet shopping. Whoopie.
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