Peekaboo

"The candles lit

Waiting patient for me to sit

But none of last year’s clothes still fit

And I keep waiting for you to enter the room

I made my wish let me give it to you

When I turn 28

Things are gonna be great

At 28

At 28"

28 (2010) by Lorene Scarfaria

I know no one had noticed but the eye of my blog, my Panasonic Lumix DMC TZ15, had been blind for more than a year and I had been getting by with the camera on my phone. I messed around with the Crazy Cat Lady™'s Nikon D5000 occasionally (the first time I handled a DSLR camera, incidentally) but the device had proved too unwieldy for my purposes so it pretty much stayed in hibernation in its box for months on end.

Last Sunday, I unearthed it from storage because letting an expensive toy like it fossilise for future archaeologists seem like such a waste. While flipping through its SD card, I found a few untold glimpses into the past that I have forgotten about, and now I'm keeping them here so I don't forget them again. Some moments are worth commemorating, don't you think so?

Here is a snapshot of the gag birthday present I bought my wife.

A pregnant fruit for my pregnant wife.

She was in her first trimester and had been yenning cempedak for weeks (which was pretty tame as preggo-cravings go), so for her 28th birthday earlier this year, I got her one. I also led her to believe, for an entire day, that that was all I got for her and it was hilarious watching her try so hard to keep her disappointment from showing. What made the ruse so effective was my giving her a box of Pocky the day before, saying that that was all she was getting. So after that "pre-gag gift" gag gift, she didn't suspect a thing.

Here is a candid shot of her on her phone at her birthday dinner later that day,

If you look closely, you'd see that she's wearing the same top she wore on our first date.

I had the maître d serve her real birthday pressie during the dessert course (a Samsung Galaxy S III phone) but before then, I spent the entire evening trying to get her to admit that she was disappointed with the cempedak - but she valiantly kept up the happy grateful birthday girl façade. Didn't fool me a single minute, o' course.

Why marry someone when you are not going to mess with her mind at every opportunity you get with blatant lies?

Last Sunday, my shopping list read like an entry in Dali's diary, (1) a 2-kilogramme bag of low-calorie kitty kibbles, (2) a pair of ice cube trays, and (3) a hacksaw. This was because my cats are too fat, my drinks are too warm and Cheryl's coconut shell bangle is too small to be separated from her wrist without taking most of her wristbones with it.

She had it on since year 2005.

After a couple of nail-biting, gut-wrenching minutes, I broke through and she only lost like half a finger.

Faux-symbolic shot.

Her pregnancy had brought her a whole bag of gifts. One of them was a double-shot of carpal tunnel syndrome, and the hard, woody piece of accessory was not exactly kind to her wrist - so it had to go.

We are now about 10 weeks away from first contact with our Unborn Foetal Object™. The wife is thinking of playing baby noises to the cats to prep them for the incoming invasion, so they wouldn't be spooked by the infantile wailings that will no doubt permeate our apartment in August. I believe we can use Justin Bieber's latest album for that purpose.

Oh, and a belated happy father's day wish to me, I guess. It might actually mean something if it comes with leave from work.



Chief wife-botherer,
k0k s3n w4i