Super Woman

I got back from work early this morning, had a few hours of sleep and woke up at noon.

I decided to give Jem a call and the first thing he says when he answers the phone is, "Daaarrrr... I'm siiccckkk...". I could so imagine him pouting at the other end of the line.

(Note: Jem is very whiny when he is sick. Really. And I'm so gonna get flak from him for saying this on my blog.)

So anyway... once he said, "sick" and "sore throat"... I immediately went into full Protective Wife/Mother Mode. *puts on super hero costume*

I jumped out of bed and decided... I'm gonna cook! I will boil soup and cook nourishing food for my poor dear! (Another Note: I've never REALLY tried cooking and marketing all by myself... imminent disaster ahead? ;p)

Without a second to waste, I hunted down my trusty old notebook with all the recipes my sister made me jot down inside, blew the dust off the cover and revealed the generations of secret recipes handed down from... erm.. my sister.

"What is not so oily to cook?" I pondered.

It wasn't the health benefits I was considering. It's coz I'm terrified of my Mum when she comes home to an oily house. My Sis and I have nicknamed her "The Sticky Floor Police". I swear she has sitcky/oily floor sensors on her feet that are beyond a regular human being's capabilities. She can feel a nano molecule of oil on the floor. You should see her when she puts one foot in the house and screeches, "Why the floor so stiicckkyy..??!!" It's terrifying. I swear.

Ok I'm sorry.. but I digress yet again.

So after flipping through the recipies, I settled on my Mum's (and my fav) Old Cucumber Soup with Pork Ribs and my Sis's Chicken Claypot Rice.

There I was, tromping off to the market, full of mission and zeal despite the swealtering mid day heat. Upon reaching the pork stall, I stood in front of the glass, staring at the different cuts of pork, without a clue what was what.

So the uncle asked in Mandarin, "Miss... what can I help you with?"

I replied, "I need pork ribs." Now, remember... my Mandarin SUCKS. And I, for the life of me, forgot how to say pork ribs in Mandarin.

I know, I know. How can I possibly NOT KNOW it's Bak Kut (in Hokkien)? Or Pai Gu (in Mandarin). Apparently it's possible. Coz I REALLY forgot.

He apparently didn't know what the f**k I was saying coz he was like, "HUH?"

In desperation and in my broken Mandarin, I resorted to pointing to my ribs. And saying I needed to boil soup. I needed the BONE.

He finally went. "OOOHHHH.. PORK RIBS!!"

Like.. fuck! Didn't I just SAY pork ribs??!! Jeezus.

So I got all my ingredients, treated myself to a cup of Bubble Tea (I figured I deserved it after the harrowing Pork Rib incident), and headed home.

I spent a surprisingly enjoyable 2 hours preparing the meal, dancing to MTV while stirring at the stove. I even tidied up my room, cleaned my aircon and laid out a towel and his clothes. (Service or waaat...? ;p)

I'm proud (and shy-less enough) to say that the meal came out a delicious sucess! Jem was so happy and so was I. :)

Now for my final parting words...

If Geri can cook... so can YOU!

Wahaha... ;p