Last week, Mom asked if I wanted to go up to Genting to watch a concert with her. I wasn’t very keen. For someone who has successfully stayed away from that horrendously pretentious and overcrowded mountain for the 15 years, I have been up there twice in the last 6 months. Both times were for concerts with Mom. I was really not up for another gruesome weekend among plastic Vienna and screaming kids until for at least another 10 years. “Whose concert”, I asked. She said it was Michael something. “Oh no, Michael Bolton?” I asked.
“No, Michael Learns to Rock” said Mom. I almost fell off my chair. My mother wants to go to a Micheal Learns to Rock concert! I always thought that band was for kids, albeit kids from an earlier generation. Still, they were too young for me. When did Mom become a MLOR groupie? I guess I should not have been so surprised, since she can name me Shakira's and Augilera's songs these days. Even some Justin Timberlake 'Sexy something' song.
She amazes me these days. I feel like the old fart at home.
Gosh, I still remember her long nag that evening when I wore my first bare back shirt for a party. Now, she’s the one with more back-barring shirts that me. Long before me, she already had a wardrobe of Korean pop-fashion clothes, you know, the dress and leotards thingy.
I remembered the movie I watched with Mark, ‘My Mother is a Belly Dancer’. Well, lo and behold, what do you know… my mom IS a belly dancer. She started belly dancing class last month.
I guess I am happy about it as much as I am bewildered. It’s good that she’s got some hobby.
No comments:
Post a Comment