She spend two hours to make grass jelly drink for me and my dad’s sore throats.
She spend one whole day on the ironing board ironing my smartest No.4.
She nag at me and I asked her to stop it.
Her birthday came and I was too busy to get something for her.
She helped me transfer my clothes from my old messy closet to the new one, when I am supposed to be the one doing it myself.
She research where sells the best Lor Mee, and bring me there to eat, because she knows Lor Mee is my favourite dish.
She bought me a Nikon P5000 when she know how badly my sister and I need a proper digital camera. She even suggested we get more expansive models.
She is my mother.
I want to spend more time at home with her, so that she won’t feel so bored and lonely. Yet that is not to be.
The nation calls for me to spend my time accompanying outdated machineries, bath in mud, and face the ground. To “protect the country”, while I can’t even be with her to keep her company.
I love you mum.
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