baby, don't forget my number
We sit down for our nasi lemak breakfast. Gary and me.
G: Have I told you about Ah Hong?
M: Nope
G: There is this woman who keeps calling me on my handphone asking for Ah Hong. I keep telling her sala! (wrong number). But she keeps calling my number asking for Ah Hong, Ah Hong
M: ...
G: After a while, I get so fed up I tell her Ah Hong xi liao!
M: Hee hee. What did she say?
G: She scolded me lah
M: Does she still call?
G: No
M: That worked really well
G: But that’s not the worst. Wait till, I go on the OFFENSIVE. I have her number. One day, I’m going to call her number and ask for
Ah Hong? Ah Hong?
G: Have I told you about Ah Hong?
M: Nope
G: There is this woman who keeps calling me on my handphone asking for Ah Hong. I keep telling her sala! (wrong number). But she keeps calling my number asking for Ah Hong, Ah Hong
M: ...
G: After a while, I get so fed up I tell her Ah Hong xi liao!
M: Hee hee. What did she say?
G: She scolded me lah
M: Does she still call?
G: No
M: That worked really well
G: But that’s not the worst. Wait till, I go on the OFFENSIVE. I have her number. One day, I’m going to call her number and ask for
Ah Hong? Ah Hong?
posted by Carrie at 9:40 AM
6 Comments:
hahhaahaa...
a post gd enough to get me laughing!
jus dropping by to say hi too!
Hi e - thanks for stopping in :)
hi carrie!
that was hilarious....!
p.s. just wanted to say hi too!
Lillian - yah lots of nuggets drop out of G's mouth and he doesn't know I tell the whole internetz
You know, that's what my mom calls me; Ah Hong.
Despite the somewhat strained relationship I had with her when I was younger, we've grown to work out our differences these past few years. I can now honestly tell people I know that I love my mom, and that 妈妈很疼我。
Sometimes, I cry, when I am alone in my room and thoughts of my mother passing away creep into my head. Sometimes, I wonder if I play it often enough in my mind, will it numb me enough for it to hurt less when it does happen. I doubt it will, and I hope it will be a long time before I find out.
I know she cries too, and I'll be first to admit that I have brought her more than her fair share of heartache, not that she deserves any in the first place. I wonder how much more time I have to make it up to her, how much more time I have to 疼妈妈 before it's too late to do it anymore. I know however much time we have, it will never be enough.
Sometimes, I wonder about what drives a person to madness. My mother is a gentle person, despite the harshness of her words sometimes. What if, as life has a way of sometimes turning out, I leave the world before she does? Work takes up most of my time, and I don't spend as much time with her as I would like. Would she still call my number and ask for me, despite knowing somewhere in a tucked away corner of of her mind, that I will no longer be on the other end of the line answering, 妈妈，什么事？Perhaps blaming herself (as she is wont to do) for forgetting my number is an easier way of dealing with the fact that I am not around anymore.
"Ah Hong, 家里有煮。今天有没有回来吃？"
妈，我从来没这样告诉过你，但你煮的东西，我最喜欢吃了。
-jm
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