The Shirt Folder
Sometimes I help out with the laundry. It's pretty simple, sort them out into 3 piles.
- Needs ironing
- Needs folding
- Bunch up-and-cram-into-cupboard
I hate ironing. So most times, I leave that to my mom. Whom I assume, enjoys this irksome task.
So I fold. I love folding towels- pretty straight forward. And they actually sit still on their stack and don't threaten to tumble over.
The challenge comes when you have to fold unsymmetrical pieces of clothing.
Like, I never knew how to fold my dad's shirts properly. Especially the polo tees, the buttons and collar and all that...
You know how brand new shirts come in such nice, flat packets- perfectly folded? I've always wondered how they do it. It's sooo- symmetrical.
And then I saw this, this
stroke of brilliance!I am so amused.
#
It's the start or something new for..
...Nienie, my childhood friend who left for Sheffield.
You're always loved, and you're always missed.
Get wild! Go have fun, but not too much =)
And I will see you soon girl...
;
The Fun I Had
Ribs @ Checkers, D'Sara Heights .
Culture @ MPO , Suria KLCC
Dessert @ The Apartment, Curve
My darling Suzette @ Daycare
+
I survived!!
Today was my first day on The Job.
My parents were making noise about how I have too much time on my hands (since I'm homeschooled). So after months of nagging, I decided to do something to save my soul from the torment of the Neverending Lecture.
Now, I work in a Daycare centre from 730am-130pm.
Which means, I'm supposed to feed, play, carry, clean, coax, put to sleep, wear shoes, take off shoes, read to- for SIX WHOLE HOURS. And on top of that, I'm not allowed to cry and yell when they do.
I'm in charge of the toddler and baby group.
Have you heard
The Tale of the Terrible Twos? Well, you must. Because I assure you- there is nothing more Terrible, than the Terrible Twos- especially when theres a whole class of them!
The first task I had today was to change Eugene
"Oh and you have to change his diaper also". I was like WHAT?!!! Two years old still wear diapers meh?
This is my full exposition on Changing a Boys' diapers. So there we were in the dimly lit baby room. Just Eugene and I. He looked at me, I looked at him. Suspiciously, I said,
"Did you poo poo?". He stared at me blankly. I stifled a laugh because he really looks like Mamee Monster!
Then I said
"Ok ok, lie down. No wait, stand stand".... it was those diaper-pants type. And they were soggy!!! I almost died. I held my breath and quickly yanked off the diaper making sure my fingers did not
kena.
Then he stood there somemore. I HAD TO POWDER HIS DOWN THERE OK! CAN DIE
-_-So I said
"Give me your hand". Then I poured some powder into his palms and I said
"Ok, you put". He stared at me blankly.
"Uh, put this on your kuku ciao" then I took his hand and showed him how.
Note * I did not touch his jewels... I gave him more powder and he happily dabbed away, on his backside, his frontside. He was having loads of fun. He sprinkled powder on the floor and all over me!
"Ok ok enough! Now you lie down". And he did, what a good kid? My conclusion is, a pantless baby is an insecure one. Strap on a pair of pants on him-and say hello to your worst nightmare. So if you want to control them, take off their pants.
So anyway, I picked up the fresh diaper and unfolded it. This one was the conventional type with the sticker and all. I examined the complex structure of the diaper, it was like rocket science to me. Poor Eugene's ass must be freezing on the marble floor (yes, I laid him on the floor not the baby mat)...
I had to hurry and figure out which goes on in front. And, the diaper looked a tad bit small for him. Correct ah? Aiyoh, mampus. I was about to give up when the Kakkak walked right in and I begged her to take over.
Phew!
Don't judge me yet, even though I abandoned Eugene during our time of crisis, he still came over to manja manja with me. And I fed him lunch ok!
The rest of the day- I had to clean boogers, pick up babies who were crawling away, teach tiny hands how to hold a crayon, fetch water, push swings, take temperature. My arms are sore- i kid you not. Babies make really great weights.
So far, I'm still alive. I don't know how long I will stay in this job. Just don't make me do any poopoo or weewee stuff, and I might last a little longer.
I'll put up some pictures when I get them. Till then folks.
^
