Tag Archives: Dining room

Wave Mom, Wave

11 Jan

When M1 was still around years ago, both girls had the habit of tuning us out with their headphones on especially during exam week. Typically after dinner, both M1 and M2 would be diligently doing their revision at the dining table with their headphones in place.

It was hard enough for me when they’d do the same in the car, headphones in place and I have to wave to get their attention before speaking. It’s the same at home with this habit of theirs to tune me out and I have to wave.

With M1 away at University and only M2 around, she continued to have her headphones plugged in especially during exam week. And she constantly reminded me that I’d have to wave if I want to say something to her. Can I fault her when doing this was for a good cause, studying for the exams?

M2 may be done with school this year, so no more studying at the dining table but she still has her headphones in place these days to watch her videos instead.

The situation may have changed but some things never change and I will surely miss this habit, waving that is, the day she leaves for college.

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Mummy’s Boy

24 Oct

Every evening, the routine is typical. We come home, we eat dinner and the Roo, official pet number one, looking in from the external wet kitchen, barks to get attention. This can be quite annoying and especially so when the day at the office was a brain-sapping one.

Rooney is not allowed in the house because his drool is just to gross for us to deal with when it drips onto the marble floor. But we play with him in the garden. Occasionally, curiosity gets the better of him and he would saunter into the house to wander into the dining room, dry kitchen and the courtyard just to appease his wonder of the house. Most times, he pretends not to see us, thinking if he does not see us, we will not see him and he won’t be caught!

There was one evening M2 brought him back to the external wet kitchen after playing in the garden and he went back grudgingly. Feeling unsatisfied, he came back out to the garden again and made a ruckus insisting it has to be Mummy—me—to lead him back and that M2 bringing him back doesn’t count.

M1 shot him a disgusted look and muttered “Hrmph. What a brat! Being Mummy’s boy.”

Come to think of it, if hubby attempts, he wouldn’t even budge, what more the girls. So indeed, he’s being Mummy’s boy, a bratty one though.

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I’m not looking at you so you can’t see me!

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