183. Brownies and my mother’s egg-freezing agenda for me
[if you’re vegan or don’t like the sight of the meat counter at grocery stores, please don’t look at the second photo. It’s a photo of a pig head. Just a warning for you, so you don’t get startled as you read… :/ ]
Today was one of those days where every interaction felt like a chapter in a sitcom. Except, instead of a laugh track, I had my mom making questionable life suggestions and me trying to dodge emotional landmines.
I started my day cleaning the kitchen, mostly because I couldn’t stand looking at the pile of dirty dishes anymore. I was pleased getting things out of the way and sorted. My mom was also pleased about me organizing everything yesterday, but being in a household full of people means there’s just constant mess. Cleaning is one of those things that feels deeply satisfying in a low-stakes kind of way. Sure, no one’s going to applaud me for scrubbing sauce off the stove, but it’s me who knows it. And honestly, with how messy life is right now, there’s something nice about being able to completely fix one thing. If only cleaning the kitchen could also clean out my lingering pain.
It simply can’t.
—
Breakfast was decent- eggs, avocado, toast with turkey, and a sneak attack from my mom, who slipped hard cheese into the sandwich. It was old and hard and my mom thought that it would melt under the heat of the bread. Oop- just some hard cheese and some hard truths today.
My mom invited me and my brother out for lunch (after much pestering of my mom for my brother to get a haircut). We drove out to the city to run some errands. Lunch was a big, steaming bowl of pho, which would’ve been perfect if my mom didn’t use it as an opportunity to segue into a lecture about my dating life. But before that, I noticed the bowl- this gorgeous ceramic masterpiece. It felt like something you’d see in a fine china shop. I made a casual comment about it, and my mom, without missing a beat, said, “You’re getting old now because only old people care about the quality of the bowls.”
Old people, huh? Well, maybe I am old… or just tired from my “healing process,” which is coming along, but still tastes a little bitter. Also, it’s not helping that my mom keeps saying things like, “Maybe he didn’t even like you that much.” I mean…maybe he didn’t? “If he really liked you that much then you guys wouldn’t even break up because he likes you enough, above all.” Why does she feel the need to say it, though?
And then there’s her newest campaign: finding a facility to house my unfertilized eggs, so I can someday match them with a “handsome sperm donor” so she can finally have grandchild. Very practical, in a cold, unfeeling science experiment kind of way. At first, I rolled my eyes, but she’s not wrong. I’m still young, but life is weird and unpredictable, and maybe it’s smart to hedge my bets. The idea of future me, scrolling through sperm donor profiles, feels both dystopian and oddly empowering in a way.
We all indulged in a classic pastime: talking shit about my sister. My sister, who has a stable nice boyfriend who we all love and appreciate because he is so patient with her, somehow manages to be the biggest brat in the family. She’s the queen of just unnecessary attitude. We laughed, we vented, we bonded over our mutual frustration about my annoying sister going through her teenager phase. It felt good, even if it was a little mean. Family gossip is like therapy, but cheaper and with more food.
—
After pho, we capped off noontime with a visit to the Filipino grocery store. If you’ve never been, it’s like walking into a sensory overload of nostalgia, even if the nostalgia isn’t yours. After I followed my mom and brother around, I broke away, throwing random childhood snacks into the cart. My brother came around corner and told me to look at the pig head with him. He said it had weird eerie vibes… well yeah, it’s the head of a pig. I don’t eat much pork these days, despite me living in Asia most of the year. It just has too much cholesterol.
I made brownies. Baking is my way of making peace with the world- or at least the people in my house. The smell of chocolate filled the kitchen, and for a moment, everything felt calm. I even shared them with my sister and her boyfriend, which felt like an unspoken olive branch after all the gossip.
I felt like today made me feel like life is mostly made up of these little moments- cleaning, eating, laughing, bickering. They don’t fix everything, but they keep things moving. As for my mom’s unhelpful (yet practical) advice, maybe she’s onto something. Life doesn’t always work out the way we hope, and sometimes the best you can do is hedge your bets with frozen eggs and a plan B.
~ freezing my unborn I guess, we’ll see, idk,
<3 K