Of Growing Up

I was lying on the bed, hugging my baby lion Dmitri when I suddenly thought of Sifi. My recollection then progressed to all my cats back home- I missed them so much it made my jaw clenched so hard at the thought of it. I then engaged my roommate Fatin in a conversation wherein we reminisced about Sifi and how we missed her ‘kitten days’, during which her hyperactive demeanour constantly put our lives on edge (haha). We recalled how she used to wake all three of us up in the morning the couple of times she had stayed over by paying us visits sequentially in our respective beds and tried her very best to get our attention.

Farah had related on how she would unexpectedly feel something warm and fuzzy on her tummy and find Sifi nicely curled up there when she opened her eyes. That was when all hell would break loose. Yes, Farah was terrified of cats. She would then dive into Fatin’s bed and I would scoop the confused Sifi and bring her (Sifi) back to my bed. Trust her to learn her lesson. Not. She would proceed with either Fatin or me, tugging on our clothes, feet, hair, everything. Once though, one memorable moment, I slowly opened my eyes to find Sifi cleaving to my right arm and simply stared at me with this adorable look which uncannily resembled that of Puss in Boots in Shrek 2 when he pleaded with Shrek.

This I mentioned to Fatin and we went, “ Cepat kan dia membesar…!” It seemed not a while ago that I could enfold her in my palm and now… she is already Mayo’s size and even developed that bored, almost snobbish look so characteristic of our dear ol’ Mayo. We were solemnly pondering on this undeniable face of reality when Fatin remarked, “macam ni ke mak2 fikir anak2 dorang agaknye kan…”

The sentence ended with our laughter, but on retrospection, I really wonder whether our mothers do feel that we grew up too fast and at times wished we could be the four-year-old nuisance they had to bear with once again. When Sifi stayed here some time ago, I remember having to wash her after she defaecated, as she didn’t know how to cleanse herself yet. Moreover, a few times she even did her stuff on the floor/carpet (perhaps due to the unfamiliar surroundings) - imagine the stink I had to put up with. Yet I miss those days. I didn’t want her to grow up so fast, but she did.

In a way, I don’t want to grow up too fast. I’m twenty, for goodness’ sake. Sheesh. I don’t feel twenty. When I was nine, I had this thought- by twelve I would already know how to cook. I didn’t. When I was fifteen, I thought of getting married before I reach twenty-five. Above that would be too old. Now I’m thinking, I can’t possibly get married before twenty-five! I can’t even flip over an omelet without tearing the poor thing apart, and I’d probably burn my house down before I knew it (ok, bit soap opera-ish there). Honestly, I can be either seventeen or twenty-three for all I care, and you would still see me as I am now. Yet I feel I’ve been growing up too fast. Oo-kay… aren’t I an expert in pointless, twisted entries. Leave me be.

Tukar topic- summer has come! And whoever the Geography person that assigned the climate here to be ‘mild climate’ need to conduct a new research- Russia is so not mild. Yesterday the thermometer read 38 degrees. Enough said.