It’s been a hectic couple weeks of deadlines and events, none of which I will subject you to, but one of which gave the boys, hubby and I a chance to sit down to dinner. It wasn’t until we were scanning the menu that we realised how long it’s been since we shared a Chinese meal together, rice, dishes and all.
When I see them for lunch on weekends, it’s almost always bak kut teh and when we go out to supper, I rarely eat. I’m not a big fan of supper, I swear it screws with my disgestive cycle and anyway, nobody eats Indomee goreng out of a communal platter. So dinner together was really nice. And the food was yum.
As part of my ongoing obsession with self-discovery, I’ve decided I don’t really like writing about events. I already attend them (not many, admittedly) and unless something extraordinary happens that I don’t already have to write about for work, I find it rather unsatisfying. Kinda like eating at the kitchen counter versus a good sit-down meal.
