My Mum

I felt like deleting my previous post cause it's so......below par. Ugh. I'm out of writing juice but I really want to write. I guess I'll just keep my sentences short, plain and simple. Heh.

***

To most of my friends, my mother comes across as a no-nonsense sort of person. Some find her intimidating and there's probably some truth to that, but she's certainly no ice queen. She does, occasionally, show short bursts of humour.

So I was having a nice lil bedtime chat with mummy dearest a few days ago about pap smears, bust size, gays... No. I'm kidding. I just can't quite remember, but it was probably everything under the moon. (Or the sun, the sky, the bridge...whichever you prefer. Does it really matter? They all make as much sense as the other does.) Anyway, I was going to head back to my room to bed down when my mum takes a close look at me and goes, "Why do you have so many pimples and blackheads? You know, I don't think you're in a very good condition. You're so fat. For a 20-year-old, you're not in very good condition at all. You shouldn't be letting yourself go at this age."

I tell you, my mother. We had a good laugh over it, nonetheless.

Of course she didn't forget to add what is perhaps the most worn out bromide used by all mothers—"I'm telling you because I love you".

Well, thanks mum. I appreciate the concern. And I love you too. =)