Awfully Chocolate

Back in the days when we were dating, my dear husband once bought an Awfully Chocolate cake to celebrate my twentish birthday (oh how distant that number is now...).

At that time, Awfully Choc was a pretty exclusive shop operating somewhere in Katong and not as easily accessible as it it now. Anyway, I fell in love at first bite cos it was pure chocolate heaven. Mmmmmm...

To clarify: this blog is not a plug for the brand - it's for reminiscing certain memories that stood out from when YSY and I were dating. I'm recalling this cos I have a really really strong craving for quality chocolate something during my confinement and as it happens, a dacadent Awfully Choc cupcake landed in my fridge by way of the Husband. Naturally, the cupcake didn't stay very long there.

Not quite sure where I'm going with this blog but I suppose the chocolatey memory is but one of the happy recollections from when we were not bogged down by everyday worries about children, house matters etc. Having moved on to a different stage in life, it is nice sometimes to pull out old memories just to relive those moments. Or maybe it is just the boredom from confinement. Hee...

Baby Carrots & French Beans

When T was born, I had nurtured dreams of sending him for piano lessons.  Kinda like a younger version of Yanni if u will, minus the maggi mee mope of hair and moustache.. (completely irrelevant note: I do wonder how many bottles of shampoo he goes through each month just to wash those hair follicles...)

Anyway, I digress. From a practical perspective, he will have an extra life skill to fall back on if his day job as a doctor/lawyer/accountant doesn't work out. Personal cultivation-wise, it seemed like a good way to quieten his wilder side down and add a dose of culture. Anyway, it didn't work out in the end because of his baby carrot fingers - short, fat and stumpy. Now, I pen down this description of his fingers with a great deal of affection cos I loved looking at them when T was a baby and to feel those 'baby carrots' curling ard my fingers. It didn't work out cos the stereotype for pianist fingers are long and slender, a complete opposite of the appendages that my firstborn had been endowed with. And so the pianist dreams were shelved...

5 years later and along came K, who was completely different from her big brother: petite (at the time of publication), feisty and *happy dance* blessed with long slender fingers and toes. For lack of a comparable veggie (of which I have a rather limited knowledge of), I liken them to french beans. It's early days yet and I do cherish hopes of sending K for piano lessons for reasons very much different from those for T. But if she is going to sprout a hairstyle like Yanni's, she's footing her own shampoo bill...

Baby Carrots

French Beans

The Maestro with the hor chew and shampoo-ad hair