Karma?

Right after the day I taught some inconsiderate drivers a lesson on his blinding xenon head lights, I kissed someone's ass during a jam at the customs. LIGHT one. Microscopic scratch on a black Mitsubishi.

For men, scratches of any microscopic size are usually seen in double digit inches. It's the same for women when we see a microscopic scar/spot on our face.

I apologized genuinely and gave my numbers. I hope it's polishable.

Any accidents are scary to an extent.

But I was rewarded at the end of the day with something that tickled me.

Nowadays, our bedtimes are chilling out on the bed and reading storybooks. But no storybooks last night. I narrated the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears instead while he lay beside me. He is no stranger to that story, in fact he is so familiar with the sequence that he created something different last night.

I got to the part when the three bears came home and Baby Bear is angry and sad that someone finished his bowl of porridge.

He interrupted, and very enthusiastically...

"Baby Bear angry? Baby Bear ...scold Mummy Bear... ah, Mummy Bear ah.. scold Papa Bear... then ah ah... PAPA BEAR GO OUT WORKING!"

I didn't see that coming AT ALL.

Ahh, I love bedtimes with my koochie koo.

King of JunkFood, Ruler of the Refrigerator.