never perfect

On a generally fine day. And not just any day - it's the Hari Raya.

Mom walked in and gasped quite loudly "What is that on your forehead?!" and pointed her index to me.

I replied "It's a..uh.." as I scanned my forehead with my fingers ".. a zit"

"On Hari Raya?! Everybody wants to look their best on Hari Raya..but not you. You always have to go spoil something for yourself!"

Uhh okay, it's not like I can stop it from erupting. I was just too lazy to give a comment so I turned to leave.

Until..

"..nak pergi mana tuh?! come here, put some concealer, and dab some powder. This thing (the aforementioned zit) you must press when dia dah masak, and don't use your hands it will become a scar!!" mom said while dabbing some powder on my face.

Somehow, I felt 6 again. Mom used to put powder on my face before I go to school everyday during my kindie years.

And the worst thing happened, on that generally fine day, that is the Hari Raya.

"..you must buy a concealer when we get back to KL. It saves you in this situa..hey. Are you crying?" mom asked me, quizzically.

In fact, I was. But..

"Uh..no. Kenapa pula nak menangis?"

Mom looked at me with the I'm-not-buying-this-bs-you're-selling-me-face and yes, I cracked. It was so easy I could've been a good tali barut for the Japs for when they come to Malaya and posed that shitland occupation.

"Erm.. teringat masa kecik-kecik when you used to comb my long hair *choke tears* and put powder on my face before I go to tadika.."

Emo as hell. So blardy stewpidd, and yes, say that again.

Mom broke into a smile; a mix of happy and nostalgic.

"Yes..Ibu ingat. You had very very long hair and it curled at the end. You were such a good girl. But now so stubborn, keras kepala! Always want to rebel, entah kenapa.."

"Sorry, I'm not perfect. Tak suka dunia sekarang, benci, banyak orang jahat. They made me become like this. Ha ha"

"Of course! Mana ada orang perfect. You too, are never perfect, never. But we (my parents) love you still..always always always..ok?"

Well, ok I guess, as long as you don't make me wear any of those big flower printed clothes anymore, or flashy shoes, especially for special occasions.

So yes, moral of the story, and in reference to my previous post, I am being sappy. I am sappy and I don't necessarily like it. But I am embracing it. And it is only a phase. I will not always be sappy (only under certain circumstances when it's cool and normal to be sappy) and I shall return to my more cooler and put-togethered self very soon.

Sappy is just a phase.
Don't do this at home (in the presence of your mom)

"Mothers are all slightly insane"

- J. D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye