It's 3 in the morning, peaceful night if not for the piercing sound of your cries. I stumble out of bed to check on you after what seems like an eternity of wailing on your part. Mummy's milk is being warmed up after being taken out of the refrigerator but you don't know that and you don't care. You're hungry and you're letting the world know.
So it is with some surprise, although I should know better, that you quieten down immediately when I look in on you, you look at me with what I hope is recognition on your face as I bend down and talk to you, you remain quiet as I pick you up from your cot and sayang you a bit as we wait for your milk. Dang, just like the books say. You may not know who I am but my voice is familiar to you, you know I'm not mummy cos I don't sound or smell the same but I've been around often enough for you to recognize me voice. All too soon your bottle arrives and you are whisked away from my arms, later gorgeous.
About Me
- First Born Egg
- romantic (no damnit, not the flowers and chocs type) idealist tempered with a heavy dose of cynicism, has no patience for people who speak for the sake of speaking, no question too stupid to be asked, no self-centred, narrow minded dumbass too stupid to be picked on, believes that Channel 8 dramas are the single biggest factor contributing to the stupefying displays of mediocrity and stupidity of the general population, lives for the day when an epidemic of common sense, decency and some semblance of a sense of humour will break out among his fellow Singaporeans.
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