16 (Tue) August 2016
-One Serendra, Taguig-
with the family
Our budding Suzy Homemaker needs to learn that cooking for the family on a daily basis entails the constant challenge of dealing with leftovers. She’s insisted on steaming a new batch of rice for every meal, claiming entitlement to at least that minimal level of luxury, especially given the hardship of relocation into a foreign country, supposedly a developing country, even if our actual living situation may be the most posh that we’ll ever experience, anywhere. Throughout her blessed existence, W has always enjoyed fresh rice, while someone else ate the leftover rice from the meal before — her mother for the first 31 years, then me for the next 10.
However, I imposed a moratorium on fresh rice until she could take responsibility for the ever-expanding big-ass pile of cold-ass rice in the fridge. So, she just dumped it into a pot of water and made porridge (juk). Either way, I’m suffering. Lesson learnt.
[Writing this from the future, I should point out that W now undercuts the amount of rice to ensure that we never have leftovers, which means that someone goes hungry at every meal, usually me. Always suffering. Lesson learnt.]