An Adventure with Mum

Can you remember the last time you went out shopping with your mum? I can't remember the last time I did that - it must have been ages ago when I was still young and impressionable.

It was Mum's day off and Dad left the car for us girls to exploit if we wish. Both sisters bailed out of the plan so it was just Mum and myself painting the town red.

First up was the temple in town. It sure was a hard and long journey from the north to the south. Mum is a total disaster when it comes to giving directions or pointing out the spots where Dad often parks when he drives her there. She is one of those who just sits in the car with an indifference to the surroundings or routes. The driver is on his or her own.

But we got there at last. Safe in one piece. Though not without some serious turning of wheel and changing of gears to get into that parallel parking lot on the street.

Mum and I, with incense in our hands, prayed for our heart's wishes. I drew a divine lot and had it explained by the old lady outside the temple - the lot could have been better but it wasn't the absolute worst and entirely hopeless. I bore in mind the words of the old lady. I am sure Mum did too.

After setting our minds at ease, we headed off for some much-desired shopping at Bugis Village. There, you can find everything - clothes, shoes, bags, accessories, food etc - at lovable low prices. The shopping queen in me was dying to come out. If I have a steady stream of income - erhem - I would have swept most of the stuff off the racks and shelves. But I don't, so I didn't.

Mum is the worst kind of shopping buddy. She would see something she likes - nice and affordable - only to put it back onto the rack and say, "Let's think about it and we'll come back later". Sure enough, as always, we never did. She looked so good in those few pairs of heels I just couldn't believe she didn't get any! And not to mention those few pieces of clothing we came across too. She should really see how her eldest daughter shops - seldom not to her heart's content. =) And if she wants to return another day, poor Dad would have to drive her there (again) and squeeze through the young crowd with her.

By the time we were done, it was half past six. We decided to drive back home and pick Dad up for dinner. The journey home, again, was quite a nightmare. I missed so many turns we had to send a distress signal to Dad. It took us an hour to get home when it could have been only half that time. But it was good. It gave us (or more so, Dad) a chance to have a good laugh about it over dinner.