I'm coming home, I'm flying home, I'm going home!

Just spoke to my mum on the phone and told her that I would be flying home over easter. I had to tell her despite my plans of keeping it a big surprise, because I know she has a weak heart and I was pretty afraid of turning up at the door and seeing her bursting into tears and fainting away.

Vincent said that when he flew home without telling his mum she opened the door, took one look at him and cried out, "Ah Zai Ah!" (my son!) and cried stormily. We all laughed when we heard that, but I think (based on what I know of mother dearest) she would probably have had a worse reaction than Vincents mum.

I can see her now, standing at the door, "Ah Lui Ah!" (my daughter!) and then Thonk I see her on the floor like Mrs Trunchbull...

Anyway, amidst alot of laughter, we both agreed to keep it from my brother and my relatives. So next Wednesday is the date, everyone. Will be flying home for three weeks, to sunny skies and noodly food, and beaches and skinny girls with Japanese perms, and friendly smiles and skyscrapers and rollerblading by the beach. To parental austerity and water instead of wine, to flimsy thinsy clothes and greenery and durians and getting burnt by the sun.

I can't bear to leave, but am looking forward to it as well, in a weird kind of way.