Last night, after class, my sister and I went out to have dinner, and thank God that the service was good. But that’s not what I wanted to discuss here. When the food was served, and my sister tasted it, she was like “Eh nasi goreng ni macam nasi goreng abah la”. I tasted it and it did indeed taste like my dad’s cooking. Yeah my dad is a good cook, since he has inherited the ‘tukang masak‘ gene from my grandmother, and I think I inherited it too (I hope so 
)
I just checked the Air Asia website to, you know, just do some ‘window shopping’, predicting when will I have time to go back, but nay, I don’t have that enough time to go back in the near future as I will be having classes on weekends.
I then browsed for a clip which my lecturer showed in our class, and it brought me to tears again as I could partly relate to it. I still remember when I was little, when my dad was taking a nap, I would always be super terrified if he suddenly stopped snoring. I would go close to his chest and tried to hear his breathing. Sometimes I would just woke him up and find some lame excuses. Or at times, if he was taking a nap on the bed, I would go “lompat-lompat” on the bed until he woke up.
I also remember when my parents went to perform their hajj, my sisters and I were having difficult time to sleep and we could sleep only until my grandmother gave us my dad’s t-shirt and my grandfather imitated the sound of my dad’s snoring and soon after, we fell asleep. This is something which my grandpa will always recall and tell us , how manja we were with my dad.
I also remember well enough the anxiety of a 5/6 years old girl when waiting for her dad. My father at that time was working as a lecturer and he would come back like other office workers, on 5 or 5.30 p.m. I would always be anxious waiting for him as I was terrified something might happen on his way home. There was time when I felt he came back too late. It was about 5.50 p.m. and I was waiting outside and went like “Abah, da lama along tunggu. Sangat lama. Pukul 5.60 baru abah sampai” with a sulky tone and that “5.60 p.m.” was my lamest attempt to exaggerate how late he was but to no avail as my dad ended up laughing at me with his reply “mane ade pukul 5.60..hahaha”
Up till now, I still wonder why on earth did I not just say “pukul enam”? Duh. Then when I learned his office number, I would dial up sharp on 5. I would always try to get him on the line, and it was always in vain as my dad rarely at his office. Which always gave me a hard time calculating where he was like “maybe abah pegi beli pisang goreng” so I calculated how much time he took from the stall to home etc. etc and if he was a tad late from usual time he came back, I would have some panic attacks. What a miserable child I was.
