I must have done her really wrong when I let her try my lunch today, the Garlic-Ginger Prawns and Broccoli leftover. Though I always believe in feeding curious minds by hand-on attempts, I really really should not have said yes when Kitreena asked for a scoop of my cili-potong’ed meal.
A scoop of my lunch sent Kitreena into a nervous silence. Nervous, me. Silent, her. As soon as the salt in the fish sauce was washed down and she stopped chewing, she gave me the ‘are-you-trying-to-send-me-to-the-seventh-heaven-with-this-bomb’ look! Her eyes went rolling in all directions uncontrollably, hands went fanning left right and center, she went running to the cabinet where the cups were but ended up opening a drawer not knowing what she was desperately looking for!
In desperate guilt, I pointed her to a red cup on the kitchen counter but all she could grab was a bottle of hot cocoa powder I left by the microwave oven. I had to run to her and grab the red cup myself when she, in split-second, made a bee-line to the water dispenser. The red cup was still in my hand! And I, in split-second, made my conclusion that this Canadian gal needs some more Malaysianization. But I will have to start with Heaven Number One. One heaven at a time.
But hey, Kitreena did survive the seventh heaven bomb!
Questa è Enida 
My kids are pure Malay, born and brought up in Malaysia, but still opt for tomato sauce instead of cili in between their burgers or in between anything else. If I masak curry pun, they won’t touch it. Haih. One day I must racoon them, mwaha mwahaha, mwahahahahaha!
[…] I think I learned my lesson the most today when I almost *racooned my own daughter with my cili-potong’ed tragedy. I thought after raising this Eurasian girl, feeding her hot spicy stuff more than half of […]
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