Sunday, July 1, 2007

E's postscript

I. HATE. DRESSES. YEEEECH.


F: She sees me holding a dress, and takes off running. Then after I catch a hold of her and put her in it, she starts tugging at it, like I've put her in a straitjacket, complaining all the while. Then all of us have to assure her that she looks very pretty. And still she's complaining. She only settles after her Kong-kong takes her to the mirror to put some powder on her face. Only then is she convinced that she looks good enough and she quietens down.


Pretty what, right. SIGH.

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