That Momma's Boy

Sometimes we tend to forget the little things that matter.

And that's really sad actually. That specially prepared piping hot cup of cereal for breakfast. That warm cup of honey for that tickle in the throat. The umbrella set aside by the door for those rainy days. The porch lights left on when we're out late - with the frequent minatory reminders to return before curfew ( not that I ever had one ). Back when we were hormonally charged, self-absorbed teenagers - far too preoccupied with minor schooling disasters that seemed to grow in monstrous proportion before our naive eyes, we didn't notice all these caring little details that doting mothers seem to come by ( amazingly enough! ) naturally. No matter how much we quarrelled or fought, there was always this all-too-confident, almost cocksure sense that the cereal would still be there on the kitchen table in the morning.

Sure enough that sometimes we tend to take it almost for granted.


That morning coffee
Only felt the loss quite acutely when I took my first baby steps out of the nest, moving out into my own place and living by myself. In their teenage years, most guys ( and girls too I'm sure ) tend to wish for that swinging, carefree bachelor pad away from their restrictive parents - and to be honest, so did I.

Well, after that first initial rush of pleasure ( at finally being supposedly financially independent and able to afford a place of my own ) has simmered down, that sense of loneliness starts to creep in. Seriously, watching drama serial reruns alone in the late evenings while I eat my cold dinner for one can get old real fast. Made me miss even the once-reviled notes that my mom used to leave for us detailing our various chores for the day. Leaving excessively long-winded messages for us on the kitchen table ( forcefully criss-crossed occasionally as she changed her mind, a woman's prerogative I hear ) has always been one of my mother's sweet, peculiar habits. :)

Been a while since I've lived with my parents - and only recently moved back so I haven't been seeing those notes in a quite a while. So for once, it surprised me to find one beside my coffee cup this morning before I left for work. No paying bills. No bringing the car to the workshop. Just a shred of Post-It and that familiar handwriting in black ink wishing me luck for my momentous week, and yet it left a smile on my face all day.

Yeah, I can be a sentimental sod sometimes. In that way, proud to say that I actually take after my mother :)