Change is when something is no longer what it used to be.
Change is when the caterpillar lost its mouldiness and gained its beauty as a butterfly. Change is when the ugly ducking lost its dullness and ganied its magnifence as a swan. Change happenes everywhere, in politics, in economics, in nature, and in people.
Outside in the living room, there is a picture of me, my cousin, and our dog. We were both so much younger then. I was younger, happier, and more innocent. My cousin was younger, not as pretty, and probably still had the awkward air of trying to fit in around her. And lying in front of us was out Shetland Sheepdog, Fachoi.
When my cousin was that age, my grandmother would carry on about her as though she was a saint. She compared my results with hers. While mine were appaling hers were astounding. She compared my sitting style with hers. I would bend and slouch on the chair while she kept her back straight like a ruler. This was the wonderful cousin of mine, the wonderful image she sent out to everyone: I'm a good girl, I'm smart, and everyone is proud of me.
Same cousin now, grown up, taller, prettier. She'd changed. A few alterations to her out look, longer, bright red hair, contacts, and she had a confident air around her. While I took on the glasses, had thich hair, and walked around with an arrogant air. If she was over-confident, then I was over-arrogant. I take the credit for my work, for my contributions, which always catches the eyes of the beholder. She was confident, maybe not so smart, in the world that she lived in and the world that she lived for.
I look at her around seven years ago and I look at her now. And I think, are they really the same person?
My grandmother loved my cousin. My cousin loved my grandmother. My grandmother still loves my cousin, but I don't think my cousin loves her so much now.
Gone was the gawky kid with a big brain and a big heart. Here was the confident adult with a confident smile and an air of importance. Her heart was probably still the same size, but the love is now divided into many other people. She is the girl that made my grandmother so proud, she is the woman who makes my grandmother cry.
It's like looking a caterpillar and a butterfly. The caterpillar comes to your mind as the same group as worms and centipedes and millipedes. Disgusting, moldy and insignificant. It does nothing but eat and sleep and eat and sleep. The butterfly is the direct opposite. Magnificent, beautiful, and bright. It flutters around flowers and becomes something that little children points at to their mothers. It becomes something significant, and here's where you think: How the hell did it change so fast?
It's the same with the ugly duckling and the swan. One moment, the ugly duckling was living up to its name, being an ugly grey fluffball that you laugh at, and the next thing you know the grey feathers are gone, the ugly duckling grew up; a magnificent, graceful swan with angellic wings. Or like watching the clock. You'll train your eyes on it and watch the minute hand and the hour hand, wanting to witness it moving. You'll train your eyes on it forever - and then you get distracted and look away. You look back, and all of a sudden the minute hand isn't where it was and the hour hand isn't where it was.
Does change always happen like this, when you are least suspecting it, and all at a sudden? When all of a sudden, the caterpillar stopped being a caterpillar and became a butterfly. All of a sudden, the cygnet stopped being a cygnet and became a swan.
Or maybe it didn't happen quite so suddenly. In fact it was a gradual process, happening slowly, so slowly that you didn't notice the minute details. And then something happens - you look away, and when you look back, you'll start noticing every single thing that wasn't there before. But in fact it had always been there, it just took so long, too long, for you to realise, that's all.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Saturday, January 9, 2010
In a Rush
Everyone is in a rush nowadays. A bloody, goddamned rush.
Rushing here, rushing there. Come to think of it, I was in a rush too. Rushing every school morning, catching up on homework. Rushing to the computer every day, rushing to check my games. So much rushing to do. And then, one morning there is no homework to rush. One day, there is no game to check up on. One day, I did not turn on the computer.
I was rushing so much, that when I stopped, it felt awkward. There was nothing left for me to do. Rushing had become part of my life.
Books that I'm reading now tells lifes of twenty-year olds and teenagers. Excited about their future. Always wanting more. In a rush, in a rush, in a rush. Like my twenty-year old cousin. But that seems to be all twenty-year olds are doing nowadays. Rushing off to parties. Rushing off to work. Rushing off to dates. Always rushing, never stopping. They leave behind messy rooms, worried parents, upset grandparents. Rush off and rush back. The twenties are the materialistic years, I read. It's when people worry about dates, about boyfriends, about how they look, about how they talk. Dancing till 5am. Playing till tomorrow. It's alright, the twenty-year olds don't need sleep. They just want to have fun. They just want to live their lifes.
But when you are rushing so much, when will you stop? Will you ever stop? Will you ever remember how to stop? In a rush, people forget bits and pieces of their lifes. Maybe they forgot that someone didn't like blue. Maybe they forgot that someone was allergic to seafood. Maybe they forgot about someone. Maybe that someone was important and special.
But that 'someone' was important. That someone was special. That someone used to be around for 24/7. But in a rush, that someone was forgotten. And once in a blue moon, you'll look back on your life and think about that someone. And you'll remember what that someone and you did together that was special. And you'll remember that you were the one who left that someone behind.
My cousin is living with us now. I don't mind my cousin, we get along well. But living under the same roof, there are some things that I found out that I didn't want to know. She used to be like a godly figure to me. She brought me out for treats. She let me know her really wonderful best friend. But we didn't live together then. We were not strangers, we were close. And I liked that.
Now she's in our apartment. All of a sudden, a goodness and her badness become more visible.
She takes us out to watch her perform. Her wonderful best friend tutors us in math. But she gets mad when we wake her up too early in the morning. She loses it sometimes when someone tells her to do something.
She talks like someone from England to get a better pay, she says. When she talks to people, they all gap and ask if she studied aboard. No, she didn't. She studied in Singapore.
But I hate it whenever she talks like some student who had studied in England. I hate it that she doesn't like her Chinese heritage. That she is ashamed of being a Singaporean. Foreigners are looked up in the current society. If you study abroad, people will look up to you too. But if you are from China, people look down on you or people look away.
The smart people of this world teach the younger generations about the Holocaust so that things like that would never be repeated again. The Holocaust was a matter of racial dislike gone big. We shouldn't despise on other races, we should al live together in peace and harmony, else things like the Holocaust will happen. Yeah, right. So what the hell is this? I have a Chinese teacher who doesn't speak Chinese. I have a Chinese cousin who acts like she's ashamed of her Chinese heritage. We have people from all over the world looking down on one another, just because their status is not as highly or as important as they themselves. So what the hell is this? What the hell happened to peace and harmony? Just because mass killings didn't take place doesn't mean we all like one another in this world. Genocides happen because these minor skrimishes between races crossed the line. And they say that things like the Holocaust should never have to repeat again. They obviously don't know our society very well.
But back to being in a big fat rush again. Sometimes I think, will I be in a rush like this when I grow up? I hope not. But now is only now. Who knows what the future would become? Maybe I'll take drugs. Maybe I'll become a criminal. Maybe I'll talk, act, and pretend to be a rich bitch so that I'll be liked. Maybe I'll rush about in the cold and cruel world to dates, to parties, to pubs.
But now for the moment, I just want to sit down and be content with my place in life. It's not like I have nothing better to do. It's not like I don't have any friends. It's not like they don't ask me out. But it's just that sometimes, I just don't want to go out. I just want to stay in bed and wonder about the great philosophical questions in the world.
Are teenagers suppose to care so much about these kind of things? At thirteen years old, I'm too young to date. I'm to young to enter a casino, I'm too young to drink alcohol. But I have male friends. I had a bird's eye view of a casino once. I downed cocktails and Bacardi during nights.
I guess my point in this blog is that I don't get why people have to rush about nowadays. And also why people try so hard to be someone they're not, just so as to get what they desire. I like my cousin, I really do. But I just wish that I hadn't seen so much of who she was really like. Ignorance was probably a bliss after all.
I probably shouldn't put this kind of things up onto blogs, but if I don't then I'll just explode and have a restless night again. I feel really bad for that someone. AKA my grandmother. When I reject going out with my friends and my parents are not at home, we'll both sit on the bed and talk. We'll talk about things that should only be mentioned to someone you trust. We'll just talk. And she tells me so many things. Like how she loves her son for being so filial. And how he treats his cats better then he treats her (during a moody hour). She tells me how close she and my cousin were in the past. How they stuck together like glue for 24/7. And how quickly her temper was lost when my grandmother tried to do something for her. (My grandmother slightly cleaned up her room a bit, but my cousin reckoned that she had shifted and messed with her things).
Sometimes I feel so bad for my grandmother. It sucks to be one of those forgotten people.
Rushing here, rushing there. Come to think of it, I was in a rush too. Rushing every school morning, catching up on homework. Rushing to the computer every day, rushing to check my games. So much rushing to do. And then, one morning there is no homework to rush. One day, there is no game to check up on. One day, I did not turn on the computer.
I was rushing so much, that when I stopped, it felt awkward. There was nothing left for me to do. Rushing had become part of my life.
Books that I'm reading now tells lifes of twenty-year olds and teenagers. Excited about their future. Always wanting more. In a rush, in a rush, in a rush. Like my twenty-year old cousin. But that seems to be all twenty-year olds are doing nowadays. Rushing off to parties. Rushing off to work. Rushing off to dates. Always rushing, never stopping. They leave behind messy rooms, worried parents, upset grandparents. Rush off and rush back. The twenties are the materialistic years, I read. It's when people worry about dates, about boyfriends, about how they look, about how they talk. Dancing till 5am. Playing till tomorrow. It's alright, the twenty-year olds don't need sleep. They just want to have fun. They just want to live their lifes.
But when you are rushing so much, when will you stop? Will you ever stop? Will you ever remember how to stop? In a rush, people forget bits and pieces of their lifes. Maybe they forgot that someone didn't like blue. Maybe they forgot that someone was allergic to seafood. Maybe they forgot about someone. Maybe that someone was important and special.
But that 'someone' was important. That someone was special. That someone used to be around for 24/7. But in a rush, that someone was forgotten. And once in a blue moon, you'll look back on your life and think about that someone. And you'll remember what that someone and you did together that was special. And you'll remember that you were the one who left that someone behind.
My cousin is living with us now. I don't mind my cousin, we get along well. But living under the same roof, there are some things that I found out that I didn't want to know. She used to be like a godly figure to me. She brought me out for treats. She let me know her really wonderful best friend. But we didn't live together then. We were not strangers, we were close. And I liked that.
Now she's in our apartment. All of a sudden, a goodness and her badness become more visible.
She takes us out to watch her perform. Her wonderful best friend tutors us in math. But she gets mad when we wake her up too early in the morning. She loses it sometimes when someone tells her to do something.
She talks like someone from England to get a better pay, she says. When she talks to people, they all gap and ask if she studied aboard. No, she didn't. She studied in Singapore.
But I hate it whenever she talks like some student who had studied in England. I hate it that she doesn't like her Chinese heritage. That she is ashamed of being a Singaporean. Foreigners are looked up in the current society. If you study abroad, people will look up to you too. But if you are from China, people look down on you or people look away.
The smart people of this world teach the younger generations about the Holocaust so that things like that would never be repeated again. The Holocaust was a matter of racial dislike gone big. We shouldn't despise on other races, we should al live together in peace and harmony, else things like the Holocaust will happen. Yeah, right. So what the hell is this? I have a Chinese teacher who doesn't speak Chinese. I have a Chinese cousin who acts like she's ashamed of her Chinese heritage. We have people from all over the world looking down on one another, just because their status is not as highly or as important as they themselves. So what the hell is this? What the hell happened to peace and harmony? Just because mass killings didn't take place doesn't mean we all like one another in this world. Genocides happen because these minor skrimishes between races crossed the line. And they say that things like the Holocaust should never have to repeat again. They obviously don't know our society very well.
But back to being in a big fat rush again. Sometimes I think, will I be in a rush like this when I grow up? I hope not. But now is only now. Who knows what the future would become? Maybe I'll take drugs. Maybe I'll become a criminal. Maybe I'll talk, act, and pretend to be a rich bitch so that I'll be liked. Maybe I'll rush about in the cold and cruel world to dates, to parties, to pubs.
But now for the moment, I just want to sit down and be content with my place in life. It's not like I have nothing better to do. It's not like I don't have any friends. It's not like they don't ask me out. But it's just that sometimes, I just don't want to go out. I just want to stay in bed and wonder about the great philosophical questions in the world.
Are teenagers suppose to care so much about these kind of things? At thirteen years old, I'm too young to date. I'm to young to enter a casino, I'm too young to drink alcohol. But I have male friends. I had a bird's eye view of a casino once. I downed cocktails and Bacardi during nights.
I guess my point in this blog is that I don't get why people have to rush about nowadays. And also why people try so hard to be someone they're not, just so as to get what they desire. I like my cousin, I really do. But I just wish that I hadn't seen so much of who she was really like. Ignorance was probably a bliss after all.
I probably shouldn't put this kind of things up onto blogs, but if I don't then I'll just explode and have a restless night again. I feel really bad for that someone. AKA my grandmother. When I reject going out with my friends and my parents are not at home, we'll both sit on the bed and talk. We'll talk about things that should only be mentioned to someone you trust. We'll just talk. And she tells me so many things. Like how she loves her son for being so filial. And how he treats his cats better then he treats her (during a moody hour). She tells me how close she and my cousin were in the past. How they stuck together like glue for 24/7. And how quickly her temper was lost when my grandmother tried to do something for her. (My grandmother slightly cleaned up her room a bit, but my cousin reckoned that she had shifted and messed with her things).
Sometimes I feel so bad for my grandmother. It sucks to be one of those forgotten people.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Admirable Fish
There is an admirable fish in my house.
This fish is just like the others, but around 2 months ago it started flipping upside down: a sure sign that it was dying.
Amazingly, it is still alive, even until now. Sometimes it stops moving completely and sinks to the bottom, but then it will suddenly filp up and then slowly fall down again. When my uncle came over, he said that the fish had a broken spine. He grabbed the bottle of fish food and sprinkled some of it on top of the fish, saying that it needed help to be able to eat.
I am awed by the fish, surprised that it is so strong and persistant. But sometimes I see its lifeless body at the bottom, unable to move except to flap its fins and rotate its eyeballs; I pity the fish. It would me so much easier to die, and to stop living to save itself the pain.
I did as my uncle said and tried to sprinkle the food on top of the fish. But the fish is at the bottom of the tank and the food floats on the surface. In the end the food gets washed away, out of reach of the fish's mouth. If one or two manages to sink, it always lands somewhere unbearbly close to the fish, but to far for the fish to it it. It lands on the fish's body, right in front of its mouth. I get frustrated, too. So close, and yet so far. I feel sick to the gut whenever I try to feed the fish. It's eyeballs rotate as it sees the food, but they are always out of reach.
So much easier to just die and end it all, then to live and continue.
This fish is just like the others, but around 2 months ago it started flipping upside down: a sure sign that it was dying.
Amazingly, it is still alive, even until now. Sometimes it stops moving completely and sinks to the bottom, but then it will suddenly filp up and then slowly fall down again. When my uncle came over, he said that the fish had a broken spine. He grabbed the bottle of fish food and sprinkled some of it on top of the fish, saying that it needed help to be able to eat.
I am awed by the fish, surprised that it is so strong and persistant. But sometimes I see its lifeless body at the bottom, unable to move except to flap its fins and rotate its eyeballs; I pity the fish. It would me so much easier to die, and to stop living to save itself the pain.
I did as my uncle said and tried to sprinkle the food on top of the fish. But the fish is at the bottom of the tank and the food floats on the surface. In the end the food gets washed away, out of reach of the fish's mouth. If one or two manages to sink, it always lands somewhere unbearbly close to the fish, but to far for the fish to it it. It lands on the fish's body, right in front of its mouth. I get frustrated, too. So close, and yet so far. I feel sick to the gut whenever I try to feed the fish. It's eyeballs rotate as it sees the food, but they are always out of reach.
So much easier to just die and end it all, then to live and continue.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
I rejected
I rejected the Student Council position that I was offered.
On tuesday, I was given the task of collecting the replies of all the Student Council candidates. I went around asking them for their choice, and honestly said 'No' when they asked for my decision. Their faces were surprised and shocked. Everyone said yes, except for Ja**, and Yan*** because she was absent.
I went downstairs where the teacher in charge was conducting a PE lesson. I waited a while before I got a chance to talk to him.
I looked him in the eye and told to his face that everyone was keen on joining the SC, with the exception of Ja** and me. And that Yan*** was absent, so I didn't know her decision.
"OK, sure. No problem. Thank you very much." he replied smiling.
I walked away, feeling slightly uneasy. That generous smile? That easy-going answer? Why did he sound like I had told him the weather? I told my friend Je** about his reaction. She laughed out loud and told me "Maybe the tachers only consider those that say 'No'".
I had said 'Shit' but I don't think it would do me any good.
Meanwhile there are more pressing matters, like english. We are suppose to print out a short story, which our teacher had cleverly uploaded on the internet. Apparently she scanned it in using Adobe. Amazingly, I had lost my password for that particular site. Resigned to asking friends to send me a copy by email, I was replied that neither of them could open the file. Too emberassed to ask my teacher AGAIN for my password (which would be the third time now), I asked my other teacher for my password (the site is a learning site; if a student loses her password, she would clikc the 'lost password' sign, and a new password would be sent to the teacher). Chances are she would reply me tomorrow. In the meantime I would just sit here and sob. But by some stroke of luck, a logical idea (during camp, my teacher praised me for being 'logicak, straightforward and frank'. He added 'thanks for your honesty', and then also 'be careful') comes into my head. SImple, I just surf the net for that short story, and then print it out.
Now I just need to worry about my teacher's less-then-serious reaction...
On tuesday, I was given the task of collecting the replies of all the Student Council candidates. I went around asking them for their choice, and honestly said 'No' when they asked for my decision. Their faces were surprised and shocked. Everyone said yes, except for Ja**, and Yan*** because she was absent.
I went downstairs where the teacher in charge was conducting a PE lesson. I waited a while before I got a chance to talk to him.
I looked him in the eye and told to his face that everyone was keen on joining the SC, with the exception of Ja** and me. And that Yan*** was absent, so I didn't know her decision.
"OK, sure. No problem. Thank you very much." he replied smiling.
I walked away, feeling slightly uneasy. That generous smile? That easy-going answer? Why did he sound like I had told him the weather? I told my friend Je** about his reaction. She laughed out loud and told me "Maybe the tachers only consider those that say 'No'".
I had said 'Shit' but I don't think it would do me any good.
Meanwhile there are more pressing matters, like english. We are suppose to print out a short story, which our teacher had cleverly uploaded on the internet. Apparently she scanned it in using Adobe. Amazingly, I had lost my password for that particular site. Resigned to asking friends to send me a copy by email, I was replied that neither of them could open the file. Too emberassed to ask my teacher AGAIN for my password (which would be the third time now), I asked my other teacher for my password (the site is a learning site; if a student loses her password, she would clikc the 'lost password' sign, and a new password would be sent to the teacher). Chances are she would reply me tomorrow. In the meantime I would just sit here and sob. But by some stroke of luck, a logical idea (during camp, my teacher praised me for being 'logicak, straightforward and frank'. He added 'thanks for your honesty', and then also 'be careful') comes into my head. SImple, I just surf the net for that short story, and then print it out.
Now I just need to worry about my teacher's less-then-serious reaction...
Saturday, October 10, 2009
I got asked
On the second and last night of camp, I was asked to urgently report to a teacher, sometime before 12.
I was curious, so I showered, skiped the drinks and ran with my friend to the teacher's dorm.
We weren't alone, though. A group of students were going in the same direction. They were all Student Councillors. Only a few weren't. And they were all worried that they were going to get scolded for something that they had done.
I didn't say anything because I got this feeling in my gut. And I was right.
When we reached the teacher's dorm we were made to wait outside. After about 10 mins we came in, while the SC moved out. The the teacher told us.
Told us that we were recommended by the teachers a position in the Student Council.
Ru** clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes shining. Ja** went pink. Yu* ** looked excited and shocked. Cla**** and Ve** smiled. Only my expression remained unchanged. Because I had expected it, and I wasn't feeling keen.
The teacher asked us all on our feelings. When he asked "How many of you feel like you need to seriously think it through?", I raised up my hand. My expression was dead serious. The others looked like Christmas had came early. Was being offered a position like that really that good?
The the teacher launched into a talk on what would we have to do if we joined. What would happen to our future, since the school could recommend us to the better schools when we get older. I wished he hadn't. It would have been much easier for me to reject the offer. Everytime I think that "No, I don't want to join", I think of "SIS can recommend you to good schools in the future".
When I raised my hand, the teacher must have overlooked my reluctance as exhaustion. He said that we were all tired and should seriouly think about it. I didn't say anything.
I only wished that he had never asked at all.
I was curious, so I showered, skiped the drinks and ran with my friend to the teacher's dorm.
We weren't alone, though. A group of students were going in the same direction. They were all Student Councillors. Only a few weren't. And they were all worried that they were going to get scolded for something that they had done.
I didn't say anything because I got this feeling in my gut. And I was right.
When we reached the teacher's dorm we were made to wait outside. After about 10 mins we came in, while the SC moved out. The the teacher told us.
Told us that we were recommended by the teachers a position in the Student Council.
Ru** clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes shining. Ja** went pink. Yu* ** looked excited and shocked. Cla**** and Ve** smiled. Only my expression remained unchanged. Because I had expected it, and I wasn't feeling keen.
The teacher asked us all on our feelings. When he asked "How many of you feel like you need to seriously think it through?", I raised up my hand. My expression was dead serious. The others looked like Christmas had came early. Was being offered a position like that really that good?
The the teacher launched into a talk on what would we have to do if we joined. What would happen to our future, since the school could recommend us to the better schools when we get older. I wished he hadn't. It would have been much easier for me to reject the offer. Everytime I think that "No, I don't want to join", I think of "SIS can recommend you to good schools in the future".
When I raised my hand, the teacher must have overlooked my reluctance as exhaustion. He said that we were all tired and should seriouly think about it. I didn't say anything.
I only wished that he had never asked at all.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Stomach-ache
I have stomacha-ache today again.
And it's not just today. It has been hurting ever since Monday. But today is different.
Today there is a ache in my chest. I've only felt like this once before: 3 in the morning on Father's Day.
On the eve of Father's day I had terrible dierreahea. I had sushi for dinner, and they all came up when I vomitted in the basin.
I took some pills (Po Chai Pills) and tried to go to sleep. It wasn't unusual for me to have stomach-aches, but it was for me to vomit. I slept well until 2am. I was tossing and turning, and I just couldn't sleep. There was an ache in my chest, and not just that, but there was also a similar one on my back. To top it off, my stomach was hurting again. I finally climbed down my bed and made for the toilet.
My parents were departing for Singapore later on that day. They were still packing. When I came out of the toilet I sat down on one of the dining chairs and tried to rest. It was hard. My breath came out in long, shaky sighs. My chest was burning. My whole body was trembling. My mum told me to dress in my jeans and jacket, and she and my dad took me out. All the clinics were closed, so I ended up going to the hospital. The nurse told me that I looked shaky and tired. The docter said that I had a case of food poisoning. I was given an injection and we came back to our house. On the way back the radio dj wished all fathers of HK a happy father's day. Sitting at the back of the car, I thought, present company included.
And it's not just today. It has been hurting ever since Monday. But today is different.
Today there is a ache in my chest. I've only felt like this once before: 3 in the morning on Father's Day.
On the eve of Father's day I had terrible dierreahea. I had sushi for dinner, and they all came up when I vomitted in the basin.
I took some pills (Po Chai Pills) and tried to go to sleep. It wasn't unusual for me to have stomach-aches, but it was for me to vomit. I slept well until 2am. I was tossing and turning, and I just couldn't sleep. There was an ache in my chest, and not just that, but there was also a similar one on my back. To top it off, my stomach was hurting again. I finally climbed down my bed and made for the toilet.
My parents were departing for Singapore later on that day. They were still packing. When I came out of the toilet I sat down on one of the dining chairs and tried to rest. It was hard. My breath came out in long, shaky sighs. My chest was burning. My whole body was trembling. My mum told me to dress in my jeans and jacket, and she and my dad took me out. All the clinics were closed, so I ended up going to the hospital. The nurse told me that I looked shaky and tired. The docter said that I had a case of food poisoning. I was given an injection and we came back to our house. On the way back the radio dj wished all fathers of HK a happy father's day. Sitting at the back of the car, I thought, present company included.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Cats and my Grandma
My grandma really, really doesn't like the younger cat, Can-can. And she really has a lot of good reasons for disliking him:
1. Toilet paper craze!
One fine day, Can-can walked in the toilet only to see the toilet paper dangling down.
It was such a tempting bait, well, who could have resist? And the next thing that we know, the roll of toilet paper became a mess of tissue paper. A pile of white mess on the floor, with our dear little cat in the middle. I opened the toilet door, and yelled for my grandmother to come.
Can-can got chased out by a long, wooden stick. My grandma grabbed the stick and started jabbing, Can-can gathered his wits and started running. Whack! Gonk! Most missed, but some hit. He dashed all the way to underneath the dining table, and was soon followed by my grandma and her stick. She whacked underneath the table, and he shot back towards the toilet. I grabbed my shoe and started whacking, and he moved backwards. However, my grandmother's stick came from behind. Now he was trapped. Whichever way he went, he would get whacked. In the end, he ran for the dining table and stayed down there for a long time. My grandmother stood nearby with her stick, threatning to kill him if he dared come out from under there.
2. Nice breakfast!
This morning, Can-can went walking on our dining table. Our breakfast was in a bag, and he came over and took a great big whiff.
I'm not sure what happened next, because I was in bed, refusing to get up, but then I heard my grandmother yelling at him for eating her breakfast.
Obviously there are many other reasons, but let's get on with the older cat, MontBlanc.
Good, old, MontBlanc. He lies there all day, except when it concerns Can-can, Summer, or his food. No wait, he doesn't even budge at the sound/ sight of his food. We have to carry him over. Then pim him there to make sure he finishes his food. And then shoo Can-can away from eating his food. And make sure Summer doesn't bark at him. But other then that, MontBlanc has really nice, soft fur. White with black patches, he is very different from Can-can, who is striped like a tiger.
Anyways my grandma likes MontBlanc better then Can-can because MontBlanc doesn't do anything much besides laze around. Basically she doesn't see much of him, which means that he won't get into much mischief. That's why tonight, when I was brushing my teeth, she walked over to the washing machine and started stroking him. He mewed a few times, but she merely asked "What's wrong?" before resuming her stroking. She even petted him to sleep.
In the rare display of affection from my grandmother, I stopped giggling at her actions and went back to brushing my teeth, leaving them together, for that few seconds of theirs alone.
1. Toilet paper craze!
One fine day, Can-can walked in the toilet only to see the toilet paper dangling down.
It was such a tempting bait, well, who could have resist? And the next thing that we know, the roll of toilet paper became a mess of tissue paper. A pile of white mess on the floor, with our dear little cat in the middle. I opened the toilet door, and yelled for my grandmother to come.
Can-can got chased out by a long, wooden stick. My grandma grabbed the stick and started jabbing, Can-can gathered his wits and started running. Whack! Gonk! Most missed, but some hit. He dashed all the way to underneath the dining table, and was soon followed by my grandma and her stick. She whacked underneath the table, and he shot back towards the toilet. I grabbed my shoe and started whacking, and he moved backwards. However, my grandmother's stick came from behind. Now he was trapped. Whichever way he went, he would get whacked. In the end, he ran for the dining table and stayed down there for a long time. My grandmother stood nearby with her stick, threatning to kill him if he dared come out from under there.
2. Nice breakfast!
This morning, Can-can went walking on our dining table. Our breakfast was in a bag, and he came over and took a great big whiff.
I'm not sure what happened next, because I was in bed, refusing to get up, but then I heard my grandmother yelling at him for eating her breakfast.
Obviously there are many other reasons, but let's get on with the older cat, MontBlanc.
Good, old, MontBlanc. He lies there all day, except when it concerns Can-can, Summer, or his food. No wait, he doesn't even budge at the sound/ sight of his food. We have to carry him over. Then pim him there to make sure he finishes his food. And then shoo Can-can away from eating his food. And make sure Summer doesn't bark at him. But other then that, MontBlanc has really nice, soft fur. White with black patches, he is very different from Can-can, who is striped like a tiger.
Anyways my grandma likes MontBlanc better then Can-can because MontBlanc doesn't do anything much besides laze around. Basically she doesn't see much of him, which means that he won't get into much mischief. That's why tonight, when I was brushing my teeth, she walked over to the washing machine and started stroking him. He mewed a few times, but she merely asked "What's wrong?" before resuming her stroking. She even petted him to sleep.
In the rare display of affection from my grandmother, I stopped giggling at her actions and went back to brushing my teeth, leaving them together, for that few seconds of theirs alone.
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