Sunday, January 29, 2006

The Year of the Dog

So, I survived the dreaded first day of the Lunar New Year with a headache the size of Alaska. It felt like a hangover except there was nothing to be hung over from, unless we're talking about being hung over from copious amounts of food.

Okay, to take stock. No one called me Sharon. Instead I got called a Teochew derivative of my Chinese name that is actually Cantonese which is weird because I am not Cantonese. And I haven't heard that since I was like 5.

I did get asked a rather many number of times when I was going to have a baby. Mostly it was a question to which people didn't really expect a reply. But some like our parents were more straightforward. My mother requested for one by next CNY. Actually, she requested for 3 more by next year, but as usual, she believed in sharing and equality so it was one from me, one from my elder brother and one from my unmarried brother.

My mother-in-law, tried to be subtle and funny offered me a red packet and said "The Best is Yet to Be!" You really can't hide from the influences of that school.

What else was there?

The aunt who spoke to me in such rapid Mandarin that all I understood was something about me not looking after my body or it might have been I don't look after my husband well enough. I really wouldn't know.

The cousin's 5 year old child who proudly announced that my pregnant sister-in-law couldn't possibly have seen the baby yet because she's still in Mommy's womb. The five year old actually said womb!

The little girl cousin who tosses her hair like a Dove/Pantene ad girl walking in with a boy by her side, prompting all of us to think that they really started young these days.

The little boy cousin who makes such wonderful balloon animals that he had a horde of admiring girl cousins running after him the whole night. He also had his aunt acting as his agent, offering him as entertainment at children's parties. All a ruse to keep him busy so that she could go shopping with his mother. A most excellent plan.

A bevy of mothers giving advice to my sister-in-law about all the hidden talent she was about to discover and how playschool education amounts to more than local university fees.

One day. Too many people. Too much food.

Tomorrow, I go into recluse.

Ondine tossed this thought in at 22:17

1 thoughts...

1 thoughts...

At 12:21 pm Blogger spook said...

Its funny how I used to lament the need to visit a gazillion relatives and such and now that I am safely tucked away from all the festivities, I miss it. Weird.

 

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