Magic

Am home on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Wanted to bake but after spring cleaning, I have no idea where my mother kept all the flour and sugar. Every time I bake, the recipe says 1 hour but I spend 2 hours because an hour is spent looking for where my mother kept all the utensils/ingredients. I find it intriguing why mothers just cannot leave them alone. They find it absolutely necessary to pack and repack stuff and keep them in a place which is clearly inconvenient for anyone else to remember or retrieve except themselves. I fear I become such a woman as I age. Like when I was young I don't remember adult women being like that. Then when they hit the 40 mark something magical happens to them and they suddenly transform into someone who is angry at the world and naggy and bitter and pms-y.

My student told me today that she placed her tooth in a box and the tooth fairy came and gave her money. She was so happy about it. But she said the tooth fairy forgot to take away her tooth. I asked her what her parents said about it. She said they said her gong gong probably threw the money in but she thinks it's a tooth fairy.

Life is magical I tell you.