The Way to A Woman’s Heart

I am, by nature, very good at sulking. When things don’t go my way, I’m the sort of vv irritating person that starts whining and sulking until things do go my way. My parents remind me constantly it’s a very undesireable trait.  I’d like to think of myself as just having high standards.

Case in point:

Eizwan was late yesterday. Not very late to dinner, but just late enough. So of course – I would give him the silent treatment, the whining and sulkiness whereby Eizwan automatically goes into the pujuk mode. Don’t think there’s an English equivalent to that word, which sadly enough for the women who only speak English. It’s like pacifying, only better.

Of course since I was particularly sulky, didn’t help that I didn’t eat that much the whole day yesterday. Eizwan took out his trump card when it came to me sulking: “Would you like to go to TGIF?”

As a kid, McDonalds was the ultimate treat to make me feel better. All that salty fries and tepid burgers is just something for a kid (or an adult like me if I’m being very honest with myself) and now TGIF is it for me. Notice how much junk food I like? It’s disgusting I know, but let’s face it, you only tell your friends that your body is a temple, when deep down inside, you’re craving for a cheeseburger with sinful fries. If you say no, you’re lying.

In my case, Eizwan knew the way to my heart. Junk food. Pasta alfredo with shrimp and chicken. And a side order of chips. Well, not quite a side order of chips, it’s just that Eizwan ordered a burger and I kept stealing his chips. I knew there was a reason why I’m marrying this man. Perhaps I ought to sulk more often.


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