If you’ve been paying attention to the title, you’d have realized that I’m home. Having spent four months in a foreign country, one thing I’ve learnt about the human race is that the ability to moan about the weather is an indispensable social skill.
It’s been a little over a month since the monstrous (but lovely) plane bumped onto Singapore’s hot tar runway. I’ve been giving myself a little time to settle back into my old rhythm (of bumbling around, doing nothing) and to get used to the oppressive heat. I’ll admit that the latter is a lot harder to do, especially with the noxious haze that gave my nose a grossly unappreciated greeting as soon as I exited the airport.
I was surprised to find that nothing much had changed at home, except for the addition of three (now two) members of family.
While I was away, my littlest sister experienced a surge of warmness in her heart, leading to the existence of our two (one passed on before I had a chance to say hello) new friends here. Or maybe she was trying to replace me with three waddling (really) goldfish.
I came home to find that these fatsos had taken up residence on MY study table. That wasn’t the worst. The worst was when I realized that their fins and tails were all black (refer to above photo). Curious, I questioned their owner.
“They are so disgusting,” she said, a look of disgust (well, obviously) on her face, “They have some disease.”
“She wants them to die,” said Mum dryly, giving me the slightest idea just how long the fish have been sitting there, waiting for death to descend upon them. I was horror-struck. One of the first things I did after coming home was trawl the depths of the Internet, looking for some treatment for the poor souls.
I have since regained hold on my territory after some extensive cleaning (there was a creepy black fin underneath the fish tank) and the fish have relocated to a tiny kiddy plastic desk with the ABCs stuck on it. Who knows? They might start reciting the alphabets in order one day. The good news is that they’re still waddling about the tank, eating their own poop. I tried a salt bath, which helped cure the less fat baby of his skin condition, and the big girl seems a bit happier too. All I can say is that I’ll take everyday as it comes and hope I’m doing everything within my abilities to give them as happy a life as ever (yes, yes, I’m aware the tank is a bit too small).
Parents, NEVER EVER let your cranky pre-teen buy any animal from the pet store unless you’re absolutely sure that he/she will take care of it wholeheartedly or you (or your unfortunate older child) might be in for some serious fun (think clearing poop, washing enclosures, etc.).
I have so much to talk about, but too little time. I’m going to leave you all here and go back to writing my darned reports for my final year project. I can’t wait for school to be over.