If looks could kill...

... I would have been dead twice this week. I promise, honest to goodness, cross my heart and hope to die, it's TRUE. The (innocent!) victim? Me. The (almost) murderer? My confinement auntie.

The first time I received the look of death was on day 3 or 4 I think and I wasn't exactly in the best of moods. I mean, I just gave BIRTH. I'm on some hormonal trip, sweating like a pig, shuffling around because of stitches and struggling with nipples on fire. The only thing I need is a nice, hot shower and the last thing I need is someone telling me I'm not supposed to have one. So, as much as I would like to be the model "confine-d" mother and walk around dressed for winter (hat, long pants, cardigan and thick woolly socks) and not shower for a month, I just C.A.N.N.O.T.

So what do I do?

I shower.

In secret.

And enjoy every single water droplet of it!

But I paid for it when I stepped out of the toilet with a towel slung over my shoulder. I stepped out just as Jack the Ripper my confinement auntie walked into the corridor. ACK! The look she shot me! Now I know what it feels like to stare Medusa in the eye!

Then, confinement auntie barked (if she were a dog (HA!) she'd be a pit bull-rottweiler pariah), "Chong Liang???!!" or "WHAT THE HELLLLL???! DID YOU TAKE A SHOWER???!"

And I (the chihuahua) whimpered, "Mei You!" or "No I didn't! This is not a towel over my shoulder! I'm not wearing clean clothes! And I'm not holding a set of dirty clothes in my hand!" and scampered away, tail between my legs... but clean as a whistle!

The second time I received "the look" was today. Last week, I tried (unsuccessfully) to get out of the house by saying I wanted to visit my mother and grandmother. Of course, this request was met with incredulity and disbelief - "Stupid, ignorant girl. Doesn't she know she's going to die a long and painful death if she leaves the house during her confinement month?". So yeah, my request was shot down. Big time. So when Jeffrey Dahmer confinement auntie saw me dressed in jeans and a t-shirt today, ready to go out, she shot me another one of her special looks that could have curdled milk. Can you spell S.O.U.R.?

This was followed by another bark. "Qu Na Li??!!?" or "ARE YOU GOING OUT FOOL???!"

(I swear, this woman has taken 5 years off my life!)

Again, I let out a chihuahua squeak. "Dai baby Qu Kan Yi Sheng!" or "I'm sorry for offending thee, oh wise and all-knowing one, but my baby is looking rather orange so I'd like to bring her to the doctor to get her jaundice level checked out. I promise to be back here immediately after the doctor's." NOT!

After the doctor's, I forced PF to drive me to this cake shop for some macaroons. Mmmm! They cost a pretty penny, but hey, I'm going to make the most of my clandestine trip out of jail okay!