Scene 1
Ma= *touching my shoulder* Wah, Hun. You have very broad shoulders ah… what sport you played back in school har?
Me= *looked confusedly at Ma. Thought, is this the same woman whom I have lived with my whole life? Why is she asking me this question as if we have been just reunited?*
Scene 2
Ma= Hun, ah… what word is this? *pointing at a sentence of secondary-school-level Chinese characters*
Me= Err… I can’t understand them.
Ma= Ha? I thought you know Chinese?
Me= Ma… you sent me to a Malay medium primary school and didn’t bother with kindergarten at all, remember?
Ma= Oh…
Scene 3
A newly acquainted lady approached me and asked me in Mandarin, “Your mum tells me you don’t understand Chinese at all, is it true?”
I wondered if it’s a trick question. But answered her in Mandarin anyway, “No, I can understand you just fine,” and smiled.
I seriously need to have a heart to heart talk with ma.
3 comments:
It is frightening sometimes how mothers can fail to know their kids at all.
We assume they DO know us - after all they birthed us, raised us, and live with us for pities sakes.
And yet when my mom walked into my room, eyed my overflowing bookshelves and asked, "Don't tell me you actually read all this. It's for show right? You're just showing off!" I realised what a stranger she truly is.
let's form a support group!! =P
on the other hand, its possible that mom's just amazingly blur when it comes to me. In her mind I'm a babbling five year old - whatever I say, she nods and goes 'yes dear' and doesn't really hear a word.
So it comes a shock to her that I'm really 24 now. =P
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