Thank You, Di Mi

"Bye Bye Mummy...Good night!!!"

I would always say this to my Mom before leaving her shop at night back to the house. I was still very small then, chubby and round - and my Dad would make sure that I was comfortable and safe behind him before making our way back to the house on his motorcycle.

Mom and Dad never stay at home for the night lest the shop of being looted. They sleep there while leaving me and my bro ourselves at night in our big but empty house, familiar with the smell of rat poop and dust until my aunt and my cousins shifted in together. My grandma used to say that the house looked like a haunted mansion until the day she lied in her coffin, and most of the time it was unlit and quiet with overgrown grass sprouting everywhere. After dropping me off and seeing me safely behind the brown gates, Dad would wave to me while I yelled loudly despite it was already late at night approaching 12:

"Bye bye, Daddy - GOOD NIGHT!!!"

My Dad is partially deaf, fearing that he could not hear me, I would yell until he nodded his head in response and sped off into the dark with only a bright red light tailing behind him. Over the years, I spent more time at home after school and seeing them less while talking to them more over the phone. And shortly after that, I call them 'Mi' and 'Di'.

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"Bye bye Mummy Daddy...thank you so much, good night!!!" I literally yelled beside my Mom's ear. It's been a long time since I have said that in a very childlish way and I have always loved to see them smile with their eyes slanted slightly in a very beautiful manner - it never fails to warm my heart and elevate my soul. This time, two bright red lights tailing behind the van that they were in.

Braving the rain and the traffic, they travelled a few extra miles after seeing off a friend for business purpose just to ensure that their youngest son's food supply is well maintained. And what's more, their son is having his exam now - that gave them more reasons to drop by to see if he's doing well and eating good. With them, big pile of food greeted my sight - a bit exaggerated and lavish for a student, but all in the hope and eyes of two parents that it would suffice their youngest son's huge carnivorous appetite.

See the drumstick...?!!!

I have to admit that my Mom fares the poorest among her sisters when comes to culinary skill - she's best suited for the living hall like a Chinese idiom says which during the old time Chinese custom expects the lady to know cooking and other domestic skills to serve her husband better after his arduous day of work and to attend her children with good care. Besides marinating some chicken and processed meat, she's great in cooking instant noodles - and she advanced to fried rice. Full stop.

Ok ok ok - I am not doing any justice to her. I have to admit also that she's very creative and innovative - just that certain meals ended up in disasters, but mostly came with packages of surprise that you could never see in any menus in restaurants worldwide. Luckily her husband is tolerant all this while - but their youngest son shamelessly tell everyone from friends to relatives when asked that his Mom was numero uno when it comes to instant noodle before he could discover that she does fairly good in fried rice too, and it was because of all these 'sucky' food that he grew up to become a fine man of his own senses. Even their eldest son had no guts to tell people that!

Though it tasted bland, I could visualise the effort and time she purposely took to boil the rice and fried it well to ensure that each grain was coated with egg to perfection. While allowing my tastebud and teeth to do the work, I remembered the time when both of my parents had to have the rotan next to them during meal times so that I finished everything on the plate, not to play with food, good table manners and not to turn my head to the direction of the idiot box while the rest of the adults could do so while chomping down their food - it's so bloody unfair, I know. Oh yeah, the fried rice tasted love too.

Before making back their long journey back to Kajang, Mom told me that Dad purposely left his chicken drumstick for me and it was together with the pile of food. My heart honestly went Awww...that is so sweet - heck, I know it sounds a bit gay but that's fatherly love.

I confess that I am not those regular bloggers who enjoy blogging about their lavish life and posting up pictures of food with good presentation and followed by the signboard of some kind of expensive restaurants they have been, not to mention their laughters and send-me-up-the-wall-freaking smiles with the this-lime-is-torturing-my-tastebuds eyelids closed when placing some food into their mouth without even chewing them in the first place. But this time, I think, this is the type of food that I rather blogged about; and certainly I am sure the food above tastes very much better than theirs.

Off they went back to Kajang, and here I am telling ya'all about this. I guess at least this is what I can do for the moment, because saying 'thank you' to them verbally can never be enough - and my heart wish to tell the whole world about it. I do certainly feel like a kid now, but Physical Chemistry is forcing me to grow up to 20 by noon tomorrow. But in their eyes, I will always be that small kid that they have known best all these while.

Good night Mummy Daddy, see you next week. I love you. And tell Snoopy, Grace and Bushy sorry that the bones go into the dustbin, couldn't bring it back for them. Oh yeah, and sorry too - I went to play pool just now when I was supposed to be studying for my exam tomorrow - hehehehe.