Questa è Enida

It is downright amazing what an unfortunate event can lead to. At 2130hrs I was only wrapped in a towel ready to jump into the bath tub for a long good soak and a good scrub in my soymilk gel while tub-dreaming of ‘A Few Good Men’. Yes, a few.

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The unfortunate event:
The furnace was out. No heat. No hot water. So downstairs I went, to re-start the furnace which would only heat the water to the maximum temperature in about 20 minutes.
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Furnace re-started.

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On the way to the stairs I kicked myself for not turning the lights off in the dining room as through the windows the neighbors could see me in my towel. They probably could not see what was in the towel. But they sure would have a good view of who it was in the towel.  And while reminding myself that I should not have gone half bugil like that at night in my house with the lights on, I thought of the Bahasa Malaysia word for stark naked, which is telanjang bulat. Quite an obscene term, though very literal.

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(telanjang=naked, bulat=round)

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But what got me thinking was the ’round’ adjective that describes the main adjective ‘naked’. What is it that is so round about our body (as perceived by the Malay) that coined the term telanjang bulat? I can see ‘stark’ as being a state of completeness, totallity and entirety. But round as in the shape? Uh… I think the language-makers back then went one, or perhaps two steps too deep into the woods – if the term really is about the shape. While writing this, I am in my rectangular towel still. Not round.

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As I got upstairs, I just remembered that Kitreena’s snow pants needed mending. So, in my rectangular towel – gray in color with dark blue stripes – I went back downstairs to grab the snow pants and the sewing kit.

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I went straight to the Monchies’ room when I came back upstairs. To check on them. To open the windows a tad. To pull the covers back on their jammies-ed precious bodies. To kiss Edrick’s warm forehead. To brush over Kitreena’s back with my palm. Can’t reach her forehead. I am shorter than the bunk bead. Just like what I am going to be to my daughter in no time at all. Shorter.

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On the way out from me Monchies’ room, I stopped at their bathroom to take out the towels on the towel-heater and throw them in the laundry basket. I still kept the one on my body on my body. Not off. Before going to my bathroom to check on the water, I made a peek-stop at the computer desk and remembered that I was going to scan this flyer that had been sitting on the scanner for a week:

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I wonder what stuff on the staff at the salon that speaks English.
The picture doesn’t say it. Or does it?

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You see, a lot can get done in twenty minutes if I put my heart into getting them done. Thanks to the furnace,  I now know that I’ve got what it takes stuffed in me somewhere, to get stuff going, rolling and running. Tuff sometimes, yeah. But I am made of tuff stuff. Now, let me get this hot round stuff wrapped in the rectangular stuff into the bafftuff.

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