We seriously think that Miki speaks wayyyy too much for a kid his age.

On Saturday while Azman was cleaning Miki’s poopie bum-bum; he talked to Miki ( haa.. korang suka kata aku banyak cakap kan? Eii laki aku lagi banyak cakap la! tengah basuh berak anak pun nak berleter!). Azman complaint said

“Makan dadong, bak dadong! Makan nasik, bak nasik!”

Bak is berak in Mikictionary. The reason that I excel in baby feeding and totally neglect my responsibility in poop-poop cleaning is the absolute grossness of looking at whole sweet corn grains that survived Miki’s entire digestive track without losing its shape/color/texture a single bit. Gosh these babies are amazing. You can tell what they have had for their last meal at the highest precision by just a glance into their soiled diaper. Corn? Carrot? Spinach? Raisins? Hey, isn’t that the missing bead from my dress??

Anyway, the moment his Daddy finished his kiddy-influenced sentence; Miki immediately continued

“Makan shooshoo, bak shooshoo!”

Azman burst out laughing. We could never expect Miki to create another sentence like that with accurate continuity that reflects his understanding. Smart boy but CAKAP BANYAK LA KO MIKI! Diam lah sikit! Dahla berak jagung!

On Sunday we grabbed some snacks at McD (I missed the last COKE contour glass, anybody got an extra?) and of course Miki feasted in his little cup of sweet corn. Azman tried to feed him some cheese

“Miki, makan cheese ni.”

“Tak nak!”

“Makanla!”

“Tak nak! Tak nak! Dadong lagi sedap!”And continued to scoop a spoonful into his mouth.

OMG!! JAGUNG LAGI SEDAP KATA KO??? I couldn’t believe he was giving an EXCUSE!!! My jaw dropped that time. Miki kid, you gotta take it easy! You are just one year and nine months. I don’t wanna be debating with you by the time you turn three.

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Just let me bump into these people while I am driving:-

1) Motorcyclists in love
The boyfriend riding the bike, the girlfriend sitting at the back. The proximity of their two bodies beats the closeness of a postage stamp that got stuck on an envelope. Stuck with super glue. Cap Gajah. But that is not the thing bothers me. It is the huge atmosphere of romance that surrounds them as the girl rests her chin on her lover’s shoulder and whispers God-knows-what lovey-dovey message to him and the boy tilts his head towards her to hear that God-knows-what lovey-dovey message better despite the thick helmet. This atmosphere forms a bubble of magical protection to the both of them. It protects them from seeing all the middle fingers flashed to them by other road users; from listening to all the honks even if they are louder than a MAERSK vessel’s; and it even protects them from noticing me Bani as he rolls down the window, stick my his head out and screams “ WOI, KALAU NAK BERCINTA PERGI TAMAN BUNGA LAA! KO INGAT JALAN NI BAPAK KO PUNYA? KE TEPIIIIII!!!!!!
Oh my God! I hate this kinda motorist! Can they be more oblivious that that? Driving so slowly like their bikes are going on water even when they are on the fast lane and there are like what? TEN CARS queuing behind them! And all they care about is mushy-mushy I lap u u lap me…eiii langgar kang!??? Nakkk??

2) Putrajaya Girls
No offence! I work there too but for goodness sake; when they bought the cars I am sure they came with petrol peddles, didn’t they? IF YES THEN WHY CAN’T THEY STEP ON IT?? It is torture! Torture of the cruelest kind! I understand the drive from Precinct 2 to Precinct 8 takes less time that your hungry baby sucks down half an ounce of milk but don’t you know that there are people who are not entitled to get that huge gomen quarters and they have to live many-many miles away and by the time they get home they are lucky if the sun is two minutes shy from setting! Move itttttttttttt!!!
And can somebody explain to me the need to sit so close to the steering wheel as though they are sniffing it?? Fine! Tak kisah la tapi tolong laju la sikit kak oiii!!!
Aku lapar ni nak balik makan!! Muahahahaha..

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“Mummy!” he says, holding up his Cat Busuk; “…ni cat ni meow meow meow!”

“Apa nama cat tu Miki?” I encourage him to talk.

“Bobo!! Ni cat Bobo!” bouncing up and down like rubber ball.

“Daddy; Azman! Daddy; Azman!!” shouting on top of his lung. “Miki; Luth! Miki; Luth!” he continues,still jumping.

“Pandainya Miki…nama Mummy apa?”

“Mummy; Squarepants! Mummy Squarepants!” and he bounces out the door.

Apakah salah ku diperlakukan sebegini?

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