After like one year, i managed to have dinner with my mum.
After one year.
I waited that long.
We usually our spend Sundays together but since i-dunno-when, she has been busy busy busy. And she is always out.
Even on Sundays. And that makes me sad. As if she doesnt want to spend time with me. Sunday is our "family day".
Had a chilly Sunday today. Our favourite kind of weather for Sundays.
Sat around watching tv, laughin at the bad acting and as usual, my mum telling me the oh-so-predictable plot. Quite annoying but that is my mum. haha. It felt like old days. And it was good.
And i was silently smiling to myself.
After a while, we couldnt resist the weather and we fell aslp. My mum on the couch and me on the sofa. Snore snore snore all the way till 630. When i was suppose to wake up at 6 to catch Gilmore Girls.
We broke fast together. Yay.
I just remembered that through this Ramadhan period, I have not had dinner with a fellow fast-er.
We had ketupat (i hate hate it but my mum didnt wanna cook rice. it was fine tho) and had chili tofu and soybean (which i hate but my mum loves) and huge huge thigh chicken.
And currypuffs.
Love love love currypuffs. Potatoes rocks my socks.
And lime Coke. Hate Coke but my mum bought a whole pack of Coke.
And we carried on watchin tv. Watching Suria to be precised.
And of course, the phrase "nothing is perfect" stands.
We quarelled. There. There goes the almost perfect Sunday.
And i hate to admit it, but i guess it was all my fault. But I just cant stand the childish-ness of my mum. I cant stand it. And i am not one with patience.
Still. It doesnt change the fact that I am the root to all arguments.
