on saturday, went on a johor trip. snapped a shot of my mother - who i think is a very pampered lady. in fact, i know she knows it but is in denial. what can i say, she is very blessed with an ever caring husband whose world only seem to revolve in and around her own. she does think it's unnerving sometimes, but only He knows, says she.

as i was preparing dinner with her, she'd recalled how abah went berserk during the day.

she was upstairs in her room you see. what else but anal-ly (read: freak) arranging clothes, matching up pants with tops and then anal-ly (stress: FREAK) aligning them in their hangers. abah had gone to the shops opposite. returned home with freshly made waffles, smothered in blueberry jam.

called out for her from downstairs. once. 'im upstairs!' twice with a tinge of exasperation, 'im upstairs, doing the clothes' thrice, only this time, he stood at the door holding the plastic bag in his hands, smell of yumminess wafting through it.

she rolled her eyes. 'waffles!' in feigned disbelief.

i asked her what happened subsequently. 'i wasnt hungry but what to do, sat down and accompany him eat la,' she'd said as a matter-of-factly. i could see the twinkling of her eyes as they glistened in recollection.

the smile she bore on her face was indeed, telling.