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Kids Rule!!!

by - Friday, February 28, 2014

Assalamualaikum and a very good day to everyone! How are we all doing today?Putting aside unpredictable weather I mean. Things  here are pretty much the same since the last time I updated this little blog. Same hot weather, same 3 goldfish I got recently staring crazily at me for the last few minutes, the same 2 very sleepy and lazy hamsters in their cage and failing to entertain their owners (me) and nothing interesting on Facebook to enlighten my day today. Of course, it's not all that bad. I committed myself to watch a few religious lectures and documentaries on Youtube which I have not the time to do lately because of "work" and so forth.

So moving on to the topic I wanted to talk about today, "Childhood Memories". I've never actually thought I would come to the decision to post about this topic because you know, it's kind of personal and yes, sometimes it gets a little embarrassing but then again, it's something we can all relate to no matter what background we come from. (Sipping cool water and swatting the enemy fly away). I'm sure we all got happy memories back when we were kids or younger somewhere in our heads that we deeply treasure. Some people might not want to put up some space for such "petty" things but having these memories sometimes cheer us up when we're down in dump and even remind us how happy we were back then. 

From my observation and a few juicy stories narrated to me from my friends, I found out most of us, girls I mean because I'm not sure whether I can relate this to boys, we were either really bossy little girls or fierce mini commandos. Maybe you guys or the people you know weren't like that, so you're guys are doing great. As for me, I was a bit of a tomboy; short hair, a little rough, mean and dead stubborn and sometimes, mistaken for a boy if not for my girly clothes. I'm normal and more people-tolerant now, so don't run away! Ha ha. Kids.... What were you guys like when you were kids?

Hey, remember the time when we tried our first attempt at riding the bike our daddy bought for us? Now that I will never forget. I can still vividly remember how determined I was to conquer on mastering my skills to ride the new shiny bike, I didn't so much care how many times I fell and grazed my limbs. In the space of a week, I was cycling almost gracefully if not a bit shakily round the neighbourhood. I  think we've all been there before and you cannot deny remembering how satisfied we felt to finally cycle on a two wheel bike. It's quite a miracle those dark bruises and bloody scratches we earned didn't survive up till now or else we would have looked awful. But that simply shows how determined and firm we were as kids to get something what we want. Hopefully, Insyaallah (If Allah wills), we still have that fiery spirit and confidence now.

Now coming to the last bit of my entry for the day. Have you ever got involved in a really embarrassing or terrifying incident back in your childhood days? I know I did. And plenty of them too. Sigh.... Here we go. Let's start with the "embarrassing" incident that is still very, very fresh in my brain and put the remainder for the last. It was on a hot summer afternoon (ops! forgot that Malaysia have summer all year round) and I was probably around 6 or 7 years old and glueing my eyes on the TV, watching the Powerpuff girls (my favourite cartoon show. Now, I'd never dream of watching it. NEVER!!!). Our house maid, who was busy peeling some onions in a plastic bowl all this time in the same room suddenly asked me to take some more in the worn little cupboard underneath the sink in the kitchen. Since the usual adverts started to fill up the TV screen, I forced myself up on my two feet and headed for the kitchen to achieve those onions, which was only 10 steps away. As I was making my way to the kitchen and nearing the kitchen doorway, something really big and black landed on my head. It was alive. Naturally, I screamed and tried to swat whatever that invaded on the top of my head. The "thing" fell to the sky blue tiled kitchen floor and scurried to the cupboard underneath the sink. It was a humongous black rat. After a few moments being frozen and rooted to the spot, I ran back to the living room. I told our maid to get the onions herself. Note to readers, our old house was always kept clean (my mum is someone who was really strict when it comes to cleanliness, right up to the present day) but it didn't stop the rats from running free in the house. Now we're living in another home which is the rat free and I repeat, it's rat free here.

Now on to the terrifying part. I once punched a boy who was the same age as me in the face. At the age of 5/6 years old. There I said it. Well he was asking for it you know and you must know that I wasn't the type of kid who is aggressive. It started out like this. My neighbour and also one of my two best friends who I call her Jaja, got a new picture book which her mum had bought for her. I asked to borrow it from her because there wasn't enough time for me to look through the book. She allowed it. I brought it to kindergarten school in my pink bag, planning on reading it during recess. Only when I got back into my classroom from the dining hall, the book was gone. I searched for it everywhere and I was so close to tears until I heard squeals of excited laughter echoing the entire room. In the corner of the classroom, boys were gathered in a tight-knitted group around one of the tables. I went over and what do you know, right in the middle of the little group, a boy was showing off the exact same book I lost. 

I quickly told him to hand over the book since it was mine (well, it was responsibility anyway) but he immediately claimed that it was his, just bought it yesterday he said. Despite being at a young age, I wasn't to be fooled. I tried grabbing the book away from him while he hung to it as if his life depended upon it. The rest of his friends weren't helping me. Instead, they shouted out motivating words to him to keep on going. And that my friends was when I punched him. He cried straight away of course and our home room teacher rushed into the scene and demanded what was going on. I told her the book was mine stole it from me. The boy, however blubbered that it is in fact his and I was trying to SNATCH it away from HIM. Guess who got away with the book? It wasn't me that's for sure. Back at home, Jaja wouldn't talk to me when I told her about it. -_- Sorrrryyyy!!!

Well, that's it! See ya later!!!!


What I looked like when my mum, the first person to find out told me this shocking news.

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