Dining out with Mom and Dad

Dining out with Mom and Dad

It is 02.21 in the morning, and I am writing now. People say that 2.00 a.m. is for the thinkers or writers, those who think a lot. I guess that is pretty accurate. Being unable to sleep around this hour gives me no choices other than writing. Well, in case you are a Muslim yourself, this 2.00 a.m. hour is actually good for us to perform the night prayer or known as tahajud, but you need to sleep first before doing so. In my case, besides the fact that I am not a really devoted Muslim myself, I also have not slept most of the times. In short, I am having such a bad insomnia. I simply cannot sleep until past midnight. You see, that is why I cannot perform the night prayer.

Anyway, my introduction is long enough to start this one. My point is that writing always gives me a mood-booster. I can do it anytime I wish, and it is kinda perfect to do it around this hour. So, let me start.

This writing will be about me having a casual yet intimate dinner with my parents. It was unplanned, actually, which confirmed my belief that everything was better unplanned. It was just a regular Saturday, a typical day-off with me and my parents staying at home and watching TV all day long. Nothing special. But, I said something (half jokingly) about going out for dinner that evening. My mom, who had never been a fan of going out at night, strictly rejected my invitation. My dad, on the other hand, was chill. He welcomed my invitation warmly. He even said that we could go together, just the two of us, leaving my mother alone at home. Yes, my father could love me that much 🙂

Long story short, my mom ended up accepting my invitation and was eager to go. It was funny to see her change from a strict-kind of woman to a cheerful-kind of woman. She was more excited than I and my father were. We then got dressed, in casual styles, and set off around 7 p.m. We just went to one regular fast-food restaurant not too far from our house. This was absolutely a once in a blue moon event.

As soon as we arrived, my dad was responsible for keeping our seat while I and my mom were responsible for ordering the food. It was fast, luckily, as I was starving. Then, the three of us ate. The food was something you would find anywhere in Indonesia, you know, fried chicken, french fries, so typical. I, especially, ate almost all of the french fries myself while my mom preferred to have only a cup of ice cream instead.

The food was gone in a matter of minutes. I and my dad then had a cup of ice cream for ourselves. The ice cream was good. It was satisfying enough, you know, finishing your meal with something sweet. It was around 8 p.m. when we already finished eating. We stayed for a bit longer, though, giving our stomachs a chance to digest the food. At that moment, just like any other 20-something year old girls, I took my dad’s phone and took a selfie of myself. Yeah, snap everywhere.

My mom, who was as narcissistic as I was, asked me to take a picture of her and my dad. I did as requested.

Mom and Dad, a different version of Romi and Juli, or Nagita and Raffi

Both of my mom and my dad were thrilled by the result. They became addicted to it, to pictures-taking. I, then, took the initiative to take some more pictures. This time, I was there, joining them.

Snap! There, three of us smiling

The result kept coming one after another. My mom, happy with the result, became more excited. She even tried some of the so-called cool styles of pictures-taking. See yourself. Do not laugh, please.

There, a thumb from my mom. Pretty cool, huh?
Two thumbs! Ladies and gentlemen! with my dad following his wife’s cool style

We laughed, especially my mom, as we saw the pictures. My mom could not stop looking at herself in the pictures. She laughed, looking at the fatty fingers of hers.

It was around 8.30 p.m. when we finished taking the pictures. We then left the restaurant and went home. It was such a fine evening. Saturday night could be pretty fun with them, especially with me being single, who else could I ask for? (seriously). Having a family time like that was a rare thing for me and my parents as we were busy with our own things. That evening, however, reminded me, that family always came first no matter how busy I might be. My parents would always be there for me, and we would always be that small, (weird), yet happy family.



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