Something doesn’t feel quite right.

I think it has something to do with the fact that I have yet to catch ANY footie action since the World Cup has started and my attempts to stream online were not as smooth as I had hoped.

A part of me is so frustrated enough to want to succumb to those bloodsuckers and call those hotlines immediately to subscribe, but pride and rationality got the better of me.

I. SHALL. NOT. GIVE. IN.

And with the help with many other kind souls, England and USA might just happen for me. *beams*

I had planned for a simple, lovely night in with the spawn, because after her nap yesterday, I prepped her for the playground (damn, I should have prepped myself for the playground, those mozzies are lethal!), and as we walked hand in hand to the playground, I had a proposition to her.

Must test water a bit, so I put it across in the sweetest way possible.

“Baby, do you like to watch football?”

The answer surprised me.

Her little enthusiastic yell of  “YES! I LOVE FOOTBALL!” was one that was accompanied by a little dance of her own, before she continued what was told to her some time ago, but something she remembers…

“When I was a little baby inside your tummy, I watched football with you, YOU KNOW?”

Of course I know you silly, I was the one who told you about it.

As we strolled to the playground in the setting sun, I was beaming with pride and feeling all warm and fuzzy within.

When we were at the playground, she saw a ball in the middle, and she instinctively went up to give it a kick, and sent the curled ball a distance away.

If she’s a boy, I might have booked 2 tickets to Manchester and bring her up there immediately. Football camps and all. Like, seriously.

So thankfully, she isn’t, and I am here to stay, at least for a while.

A nice evening out at the playground:

I really appreciate time alone with her with no other people fighting over her attention and fighting for her love or fighting to love her.

It is almost a luxury when we can have serious time to bond and I can baby talk to her with childish banters until the cows come home since with the elders around, it is just a side hidden away.

It was a busy Friday evening with so many kids at the playground and Minibean insisted that I followed her through those courses.

Decided to bring her to the deserted playground nearby where a worn merry-go-round stood.

We laughed, we squealed.

I didn’t dare to join her cos I believe I might have made the entire structure collapse under my weight.

We had a great time before we returned to wash up a little before heading to Jurong Point to stock up on some snacks, as I had planned to watch the World Cup kicking off with the little mite!

We shopped for waffles, some bread for her (nothing sugary for this bundle of energy!), bubble tea for Mummy, raisins for her, ogled at this young, hot dad with 2 daughters.

She had wanted to start a pillow fight in the car and she ended up composing a song with her own lyrics out of nowhere, and I was worried she might end up like Marshall on How I Met Your Mother who sings (terribly) about everything.

Before I knew it, I wasn’t heading for home, but ended up in a long car ride that saw me heading to town meeting up with the bunch of guys and her initial shyness gave way to her mischief pretty soon.

So, plans for World Cup night in didn’t happen. Greasy supper at Carl’s Junior did.

Thanks to Shiki and Joly who shared the babysitting duty while I took a breather.

Which reminded me of how Suki (Minibean’s godma) met Minibean on her recent trip to Singapore on Thursday, and for the past few times, she had declared how badly she wants a baby, and on Thursday, her hands were in the air that she would rather have a cabbage or something and at least it could be sold for money and doesn’t need much energy to keep up with. Laughs.

Minibean has killed some more maternal instinct. Why am I not surprised?

Headed to Beach Road while I bumped into Liangwei, my secondary school mate whom I recently resumed contact with before making my way home.

Coaxed the little one to take her medication enthusiastically, and parenthood should be considered as an elaborated artform which demands plenty of creativity.

Woke up this morning when the sun seeped in and saw how the rays were falling on her.

Have this habit of waking up every hour to check on her when she sleeps. Be it be if her socks fall off, did she kick her blanket, was she crushed by me, did she have a fever, was she having nightmare, was she too cold, or sometimes, simply prompted by the fear she might have fallen off the bed.

Which she did once when my instinct woke me up, and I caught her in time as she rolled towards the edge of the bed.

This kind of instinct has its pros and cons. Not healthy to have your heart and brain jolted awake like that.

So in one of my moments to check on her today, in that brief 5 minutes, I stared at how angelic she was, like a stalker.

I was pretty tired, so I was semi-conscious. So in my semi-consciousness, I actually searched for my camera before I dive right back under the duvet.

At the risk of sounding mushy. I am not sure the feeling of so much overwhelming joy and love could be possible. So I just wanted to capture the moment. And how she was glowing in the morning rays.. So angelic

The most amazing thing happened.

I stared at her for another couple of seconds, and she suddenly smiled in her sleep without opening her eyes.

WAH. EVEN IN HER DREAMS SHE KNOWS HOW TO POSE FOR THE CAMERA?!

Cos it was so sudden, I couldn’t get a clear picture of it, but it was just a beautiful moment which I have no words for.

I smiled too and looked on for a few more lingering seconds, before I closed my eyes as I gave her a cuddle. I believe I was so drowsy that I actually dozed off immediately.

Honestly I woke up not remembering much of how I woke up and searched for the camera, but I immediately checked the camera to make sure it did happen and not part of a dream.

And the pictures brought forth the feelings I felt in the mere minutes in the morning.

Love you very, very much, my precious.

***

Headed out for dinner with the chaps at Balmoral plaza for the cold crab and chicken macaroni.

The dumplings are pretty good, and so was the popiah. Apparently the soup was pretty awesome too, which was a surprise since the customers were few.

Since my introduction to a few chums to this place last week, this was the 3rd return in a week.

I am not thinking about my cholesterol level.

It was a place filled with memories.

As I was rattling off about World Cup, the boys were talking about the GSS and how they wanna head to Hugo Boss, Fendi and Kenzo for the sale. They even contemplated about braving Saturday evening traffic to go to Takashimaya (which I really told them to spare me from the shopping), and were whining when I talked about the World Cup.

Something is very off about the equation here.

Like I said, I don’t get men who don’t appreciate football, and a man who knows and appreciates football is incredibly, uber, sexy.

Thankfully more food and shopping didn’t take place and I had waffles at Waffle Town before making my way back home to end my Saturday night early so I could well, you know, sort out the streaming issue at hand.

Looking quite positive, though the down side is it is too late a match for Minibean to stay up with me to watch, and it would have mean so much more if we have watched it together.

Maybe I just miss how she was with me for every match in 2006, by my side, and her dependency was solely, on me.

Edit: I know how often I mention I don’t wish to see England go far cos of this tough love thingy and also because the hype that surrounds England, to me, is often overrated.

So I shall admit how I burst out laughing when I saw Green well, uh, green-lighted US of A’s goal and allow them to level England’s lead.

It was a moment of disbelief and utter hilarity when such a booboo was made, by England, no less, on such international platform.

Then you know, the green jokes started. Like US of A was looking for Green-er pastures and they found it in Green. Beckham face also become “face green green“.

When I tweeted how bad I felt, I still ended my sentence with a stifled laugh which I know was way too mean.

It was embarrassing. And calling it an embarrassment is an understatement.

Then, I saw the tweets that flooded twittersphere about Robert Green, and that’s when I can’t laugh anymore.

That poor, poor boy. I wish I can give him a nice cuddle and tell him everything is gonna be alright.

The way he held his head up high (though his outfit of green with green socks is horrid… ) during half time when he came off the pitch, after he had almost buried his face into the green green grass.

My heart goes out to him lah.

Honestly, it isn’t solely his fault for England’s inability to win this game cos they had their chances, but finishing was just… yikes.

Explains why I always thought England is over-rated. I did say I wasn’t rooting for England and I had thought it should be quite an easy victory for them to clinch.

In a way I am glad they didn’t clinch the victory, but yet, I am sadden by the fact it is at the expense of Green.

Honestly, if it was the asshole of John Terry or even Lampard who fucked up, I would be gloating damn loud.

And I think Green actually had me rooting for him and Team England. Alas, it was not meant to be, and I am really sorry that Green would be shouldering the bulk of it, cos well, there’s one thing about English fans.. they will always be looking for the sacrificial lamb to pile their wrath on.

Seriously, I wouldn’t let the devastated Green be alone tonight. Not by himself, nor with the sharks out there who are out to devour him.

Not in the Andres Escobar way I believe (and I HOPE), but when they wanna find excuses for themselves, Green would be a convenient one.

And who can forget how merciless, and scary those media sharks could be. They are on standby to eat him up alive.