Saturday

Some days are more equal than other days. A couple Saturdays ago, the baby brother turned 19; I was told that I would be talking to Takeshi Kaneshiro, then, after a few happy hours, I was told I would not be; in a blithe burst of spontaneity, the whole family went KTV-ing - but the night ended on a less happy note when I was slow with my credit card, my uncle beat me to the bill and my father was silently unhappy. (And I knew, I just knew.)

I remember that Saturday. I also remember that as the day my new little neighbour paid a call on us for the first time. Little Ms T is two. She's a smart girl. She's not a girl who will agree to kai kai with you because you buy her candy. She's a girl who says no. But in a big change of heart that day, she was paying us a visit, playing on our computer and squealing at the wonders of the sliding small black thing that we call a mouse.

When I told her that she had to go home as I had to go out, she said she would kai kai with me. Hand in hand, we walked to our lift lobby, and as she walked her adorable two-year-old's wobbly walk, always leaning against me trustingly, I remembered another little girl.

I realised that once upon a time, I had been a fool wishing to be loved by a little girl more than she would love her own mother, while wishing her father would love me more than he loved his own little girl. I realised I had been ridiculous. And I had to realise it before I could put it behind me...