pelf-ism is contagious

I had wanted to write this when I read Bunny’s D Day the other day. But I was too tied up with other things. Like deciding whether or not to get that D600. Blah.

I had to agree with Bunny, hands down, that I too, do not know whether Mum likes her fish deep fried or steamed. I do not know whether Mum likes chicken with sweet and sour gravy. The only things I know are that her favourite fruit is the rambutan and that she likes her Nescafe thick.

Really, talk about filial daughters *covers face in shame*

I do not know what to present Mum with on her birthday either. Cook her a meal? I can’t cook. I do not know how to cook. Get her a present? But what present?! What is it that I can buy with money that Mum does not have? Nothing.

The least I could do was to take her on a trip for Mother’s Day. But I could only afford a local trip, hence we decided that it would be good to visit Kuching since none of us had been there. Eventually Mum insisted that she pay for the trip. And it wasn’t that she thoroughly enjoyed herself. I could see the disappointment in her eyes. She just didn’t tell me about it.

I have learned a lot from the recent trip to Kuching. I have learned that Mum does not like the hassle of having to have our own travelling documents processed. She prefers to have a tour guide in charge of all the messy procedures of filling up forms, having the passports stamped and she prefers an airline where the seat numbers are determined the moment you check in. She does not like the idea of having to push each other just so we could get into the aircraft and still had the “luxury” to choose to sit together.

I have learned that Mum does not like to have to worry whether or not we would have a place to go to the next day. She does not like back-packing. She prefers to have the itinerary lined out in an easy-to-understand way. She prefers to have her days filled with sight-seeing, picture-taking, souvenir-buying compared to the freedom of exploring a city by foot.

I have learned that Mum does not like to hang out with my friends who do not speak the same language that she does. Purely because it will make her look st*pid. And I have learned that I should NEVER EVER take Mum to meet my friends, especially friends who are not sensitive enough to understand that my Mum does not understand them.

But at the end of the trip, when I asked whether she enjoyed herself, she said, “Yes, I enjoyed myself. I am happy most when I see both of you happy. I am happy whenever I see your delighted and grinning faces, especially after buying a lot of souvenir.”

I cried when I heard those words. I cried because I have failed to ensure that she enjoyed herself. I have failed to make her happy by taking her on a trip.

It was not my intention to make her happy by being happy myself. It was my intention to be happy to see her happy.

Hhaha, that was not a typo, you read that right! I would like to take this opportunity to wish Mum “Happy Father’s Day.”

Thank you, Mum, for:

• working so hard to put food on the table;
• taking us to school on our first day when the rest of the kids had their Daddys carry their bags;
• buying us our school uniform and paying all our school fees;
• meeting my class teacher when she wanted to see my parents;
• signing our report cards above the dotted lines that says “Bapa/Penjaga”;
• sending us to the university and ensuring that we have all that we needed;
• ensuring that we do not feel like we were abandoned/orphans;
• putting yourself after us;
• being the father whom we have always wished we have.

Last but not least (eventhough you do not read this), we thank you Mum, for being a wonderful father.

We love you, Mum..

A couple of days ago when I got home from campus, I noticed my eyes were a tad red. I thought maybe I had been out for a whole day, and spent quite some time in the air-conditioned room, which explained the redness in both my eyes. I thought it was normal and that it would be OK the following day.

But the next morning, after popping my contacts in I felt this burning sensation on my left eye and before I knew it, my left eye was tearing, badly. I removed the other lens and soaked them in the disinfectant before attempting for the second time.

The same thing happened when I tried popping in my left lens. I had no choice but to wear my glasses, which I knew would cause a certain degree of inconvenience to me. Otherwise, I should not be bothered wearing contacts, right?!

As fate would have it, I decided to go for an eye check-up, partly to get a new pair of glasses, and partly to get another three months’ supply of contact lens.

The optometrist was a very brilliant man. Less than a minute in the dark room where I was required to look into the mirror that reflected the alphabets of different sizes, he asked if my eyes were painful. I related to him the contact lens episode and he suggested that I see an eye specialist immediately.

I asked him what was wrong. He said my left eye was swelling and it could due to the fact that I wear my contacts for long hours and that I sometimes slept with them popped in. I don’t know, the last time I religiously wore my contacts for the recommended 8 hours was back in Form 6.

But now, I leave my house for the campus at about 8 am everyday, and I sometimes get home at about 10 pm. I sometimes have so much work to do I just cannot help it *sigh*

The clinic that the optometrist recommended was not vey far away so I went there immediately. The eye specialist’s assistant asked me to read another series of jumbled-up alphabets in different sizes and then dripped 2 drops of amber-coloured solution into both my eyes. And he proceeded to shine the UV light into my eyes.

I wanted to ask the eye specialist whether I would be blind but he did not look like somebody who would tolerate a scaredy-25-year-old-cat.

Apparently, there was a lot of bacteria in both my eyes and I was disallowed to wear my contacts for at least 6 weeks. Six-freaking-weeks!

So I was given a 5 mL bottle of eye drops which I MUST drip into both my eyes every two-freaking-hours!! Dripping anything into my eyes is BAD enough, and now I have to do it every two hours?! *wipes tears* I remember when I was younger, a LOT younger, I always squeal whenever I had to have anything dripped into my eyes or ears.

And the whole visit to the eye specialist, which took less than 15 minutes, made me RM65 poorer!! *sob*

Note: Ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys, do NOT sleep with your contacts and AVOID wearing them for extended hours.. Take it from somebody who thought things like this would never happen to herself..