See, I knew it. Staying away from Mom would make me more tolerant of nagging. Anyone's nagging.
In fact, I think I miss it.
For once, I was efficient on a Saturday morning. No chance to stone, no time to space out. In fact, for once, I was awake this early on a Saturday morning. Just forty-five minutes later (yes, including my morning shower time, which I was almost about to forego), we zipped out of the freezing apartment and tripped our way to brunch.
"I come to Hong Kong, of course must eat at least one local meal, right?"
Which kinda thwarted my secret plans for other better stuff. Anyway, she had already given her stamp of approval for my favorite Vietnamese place just the night before. So, I decided I would let her do just what locals do on a weekend morning: yum cha.
I also thought I would be smarty-pants and bring her to "a famous traditional yum cha restaurant that I've never been to but heard rave reviews about". We probably didn't take the 'traditional' bit too seriously; we were stumped by the menu. Reading the characters wasn't as much of a problem as understanding the names.
"Huh?? That is all?... Where's the feng zhao??... What the hell does this mean?... Don't have fan cheong???"
We took fifteen minutes to finally place an order of four dishes (we knew only 叉烧包，烧卖，虾饺 and we took a chance with another 饺), which actually took us an hour to finish since our order must have been so small it got lost somewhere in the tiny kitchen.
Very, very dissatisfied with the only local brunch I could think of, my tummy rumbled and I grumbled, "You still hungry? Let's walk up the next street and continue with Brunch Part Two." Thank God I got a happy "Okay!".
"Er... they say also this zhok here is damn good, one of the best around here. But I also haven't tried before."
Ah... my saving grace. And I have one more favorite to add to my list now.
After two hours of distraction at the awe-inspiring H&M, where I tried to play devil's advocate but ended up myself with two dresses and two tees for the kids back at Singers, we finally made our way to the train. And thus embarked on our journey in search of the "reebins".
"Don't leave me alone! Please don't leave me alone! I will lose control!"
If not for the "reebin" mission, I might never have come to this part of town. This dirty, smelly, busy part of town. Where the local colors and flavors somehow enlivened me a little.
We were amazed by the mass of shops selling all unimaginable sorts of handicraft materials, from buttons to crystals to beads to, of course, "reebins". We were even more amazed by how almost everything goes for two Honks dollar per meter in the "reebin" shop we finally found. And that would be forty amazing cents in Singers.
I wasn't looking for "reebins" - but it didn't mean I had nothing to buy.
I now have some seventeen meters of hair bands in my drawer. I don't think I'd ever need to step into Sham Shui Po again for quite a long while.
"Should I buy? Should I buy? I'm so horrible! ... Okay, can I have this please... YOU are horrible!"
We giggled like little girls in the shops. We flirted blatantly with the shop uncle in faint hope of getting some discount (she got some free "reebins" and pens instead). We ate cherries on the street. We dashed across roads and played games of dodge with the awful cab drivers. We squabbled over stuff I can't even recall now. We hopped on and off trains to maximize the use of her one-day tourist pass. We spoke Cantonese so lousy I think we embarrass even other Singaporeans but ourselves. We walked and walked, got a bit lost and then walked more. We ate sandwich and steamed egg dessert at the Australian Milk Co. (yes, I am not kidding, that's the name of the crazy-busy char can teng) at Jordan. We ogled at pastries. We visited an amazing number of public toilets. I made her buy a pair of shoes and had to carry her shopping as a result.
And finally, we sat down at McD's and ate more cherries.
When it was time to leave, we weren't quite hungry yet (we really shouldn't be then). We would have headed straight home but I looked at my watched, did a little calculation, and exclaimed, "Eh, we still got time to make the 8.20. It's on the way home. You want???"
"I think your tummy too small, no one can see. The next time we get on the train, I think you should unbutton your coat."
She did just that, and stuck out her tummy too. Good girl.
I think I irritated her with my incessant love proclamations, my hysterical giggles at nothing, and my constant whispers of "Fucking cool lor" and "Damn 帅". But I don't care. Because I was a really, really happy woman.
I was walking out of the theater in a distracted, semi-dreamy mood when a strangely familiar dude in shades passed by. The next thing I heard, like literally seconds later: "Eh! I finally meet a star in Hong Kong!" Mortified, embarrassed, I almost dragged her a few steps ahead, out of ear's distance.
That's the one rule of hanging out with me in the Honks: you can ogle at pastries all you want, but you never ogle at stars, at least not in front of them!
Anyway, Mr. So ain't so much of a star. Not, to me.
"Wah lau, this is damn good... Wah lau, this is damn good... Wah lau, this is damn good... Wah lau, this is damn good..."
Of all the things I've introduced her to, I think the last one pleased her the most.
I figured it out from the rate at which she spewed the phrase "Wah lau, this is damn good" - which was about once per bite. And I think she forgave me for not bringing her to more local food instead.
But seriously, this is damn fucking good.
I think it will change my dietary plans from now on.
"You are damn violent leh!"
Despite a tiring night before, I woke early to send my sweetie off. We hopped into a cab; I crushed her foot with her own luggage. I got the last nag. We did our last meal together - breakie again. We hugged. I watched her walk into the train and sit down. We waved. She shooed me away. I hand-signalled for her to send a text once she landed. We waved again.
And then, that was goodbye.
It has been only a day trip really, but I think yesterday was also one of my happiest days in the Honks.
I don't know when we will ever get to do this again (we did talk about "Tokyo someday"), or if we will ever get to do this alone, without her kids, at all. But it doesn't matter.
Like most other things in my life, I am just happy there ever once was, we ever once did.
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