Proof my mum still sees me as a kid in elementary school:
I was working on a project that required the use of colour pencils and so, on my table there was a flurry of pencils, coloured pencils and eraser dusts. My mum comes into my room and she frowned.
“You should put the colour pencils away carefully, you wouldn’t want to lose them.”
“But I’m working!” I whined. “I’ll put them away when I’m done.”
“No, you should put them away after you’re finished. Finish one colour, put them back and take out the next colour.”
I was about to comply when it suddenly hit me. My mum was nagging me about colour pencils.
“Waaaait! I’m like twenty-something! You’re nagging me like a six year old! I’m not going to lose my colour pencils! And I bought them! I’m an adult and I can do what I please with the colour pencils!”
“Oh, yeah! Sorry, box of colour pencils, automatic mom-mode. I’m still traumatised by the number of colour pencils I bought for you over the years.”
We Malaysians eat normal things. We do!
So Eizwan’s boss, AK is a Norwegian who is posted to Malaysia. All around nice guy, he’s a little tentative about the food in Malaysia. Who wouldn’t be after being tricked into eating tempoyak (fermented durian) at the office?
It was a celebratory dinner after their team slogged in hours of hard work on a database project. I was utterly gleeful of being invited to the dinner, especially when there was plenty of dessert and most importantly a chocolate fountain.
I think I spent most of the evening at the chocolate fountain, I don’t remember much of the other stuff at the buffet, and after munching on marshmallows dipped in chocolate, I could not help but sit back, semi in pain from the chocolate overload.
“Done already?” AK teased me.
“Not quite,” I said. And further proof why my mouth has a tendency to speak before the brain processes. “It’d be perfect if we had fries with ice-cream right now.”
“What?!” AK said. He made a face,apparently reminiscent of the time when one of his staff tricked him into eating fermented durian. He gave Eizwan a look, a look which suggested that your fiancee may be out of her mind.
“Hey, it’s not bad!” I said, a tad bit defensively.
“It’s fries. With ice-cream,” he intoned. He turned to another one of his staff who was sipping mango lassi who was listening to the conversation, but did not contribute.
“Arief, what do you think? Fries with ice-cream. She’s crazy right?”
Arief nodded wisely. “Well…Actually, it’s very good, especially if it’s hot fries with McDonald’s sundae.”
“Oreo Mcflurry for me!” another colleague put in.
The best way to describe AK’s facial expression was something along the lines of him unable to wait to head back to Norway. Where they eat normal things, I presume. Like fish soaked in lye water. Yumm.