“The way I’ve acted has been disgraceful. I know you need to be near her and it’s wrong for me to be selfih. Please forgive me. Anytime and every time we need to go, we’ll go together. Like a family should. Just bear with me if I sulk. I’m a bitch I know.”
“You’re my favorite bitch! Now let me sleep this off so I can be a better person for you. Love you biotch! He he.”
The above texts were exchanged after a quiet disagreement I had with A regarding the current and impending frequency of our travels back to Klang.
A’s mother has been hospitalised and is still in the critical ward. Her liver has been leaking water into her stomach cavity. Yesterday they poked a little hole and drew out 2 litres of water. We’ve been told that it’s not really serious but the condition is causing very serious discomfort.
Groggy on antibiotics and Malaysian hospital conditions, she needs her only daughter by her side to provide what little comfort she can.
And I’m doing all this bitching about only having two weeks off from school, missing my guitar and not being able to enjoy my newly-fixed (after 1 whole hellish week) modem.
When I die I’d probably end up in bad son-in-law hell. I’d be smoking a stinking hell cigarette with the other bad son-in-laws who conspire to kill or destroy the business of their mother-in-laws in day time Malay soap operas.