mom was too tired
so dad and i drove down to cold storage for pizza.

well.. i went for pizza.

dad was sent on a milk and bread *only* order from mom.

didn't buy pizza in the end, cause the fresh ones had pepperoni in them and the other ones had servings of 1100 calories per slice.

so went around getting baguettes lettuce and ham.

and granola bars..

and then that was tonight's dinner.

mom came into the kitchen and criticized the way i cut tomatoes.. she stared at my half squashed, oblong shaped slices...

her: oh.. what sad luck i have.
me: *stares* so much for me trying to help you.. *drops knife and walks away* no more sad luck for you. happy?
her: why don't you knwo how to cut tomatoes?
me: sad luck for you that you just don't know how to acknowledge people who are trying to help you.
her: JUST CUT THE TOMATOES PROPERLY..
me: JUST DO IT YOURSELF..

and poor dad later came back and started cutting tomatoes himself.

i've realized that i should learn to appreciate my dad.

when the rest of the house is pmsing and screaming at each other.. he walks in and cleans up the mess.

i think it would attribute to the fact that he's the only guy living in the house. and that he was the oldest brother and only had one brother and 6 sisters and his mom growing up. and he's a virgo. and is the typical soft spoken doctor.

oh well.

i remember as a kid, i scream for mom to do my hair..

and he'll step in and offer to do it..

and i'll give him a weird look and he'd boast that he used to plait the hair for all of his 6 sisters growing up.

i guess it's the effect of living in a female dominated household all his life.

but he likes it.
especially after the times when my cousins stay over.. and when they leave, he'll breathe a sigh of relief and say he's thankful for not having any sons.

anyway. back to tonight's dinner.

after eating, mom was telling me this story about how we were sending my dad off to the airport one day in london and then on the way home they stopped by this sandwich bar.. and i was hungry and came up to her and whispered "feed me also.." in her ear.

then she laughed.

she thought that it was funny.

i stared back and told her that it was a 2 year old anjali *trying* to get some attention.

and then she told the story about how she'd always be talking to gee and i'll pull her sleeve and scream "talk to me also...."

and she said it was cute and laughed again.

i pointed out that that was a blatant sign that i needed attention and she gave way too much attention to gee.

and then she changed the topic to my 2nd birthday.. when my uncle asked me what i wanted..

he: princess, what do want for your birthday?
me: *thinks very hard* a duck.
he: no, i can't get you a duck. what else do you want?
me: a chicken.
he: no. not a chicken. what else?
me: *thinks very hard* a.... pony.

and then i think he gave up.

weird kid i was.
asking for a duck.
and then a chicken.

a pony i can understand..

but a duck?

but i guess i was childish and spoilt and probably assumed that i should ask him for something my mom wouldn't allow.

i was the princess in the family after all. being the only babygirl surrounded by all the other snot nosed boys.

grandad obviously hated it. he never liked girls. especially loud mouthed, independent ones like me who got offers from commercial companies.

still blame my parents from preventing me from becoming the next amanda bynes.

tamil paper tomorrow.
argh.