I have forgotten the story my mother told me about Chang Er. I vaguely remember it is some fairy living on the moon and she has a rabbit to pound some elixir for her to stay young so that she can meet dunno who every once a year. Now, in this modern times, rabbit means something else. In fact, the rabbit company had tried to engage me to write a paid post for them FOUR times already. It is a UK company and they want to pay me USD100 per post. I declined eventhough I wouldn’t mind the money, you know?

So, I was thinking some naughty thoughts. If Chang Er has her rabbit on the moon, why need to remain young to wait for her knight in shining armour, no? Ok, ok, I am such a feminist, I don’t think women actually need men anymore. We can make our own money. We can repair our own car. We can live in our own house. We can ……and then there is the rabbit.

Many of you won’t get the joke. Better still. Frankly, if they allow me to import rabbits into our country, probably I will be very rich now.

Talking about forgetting my childhood stories, today, I was discussing about rats. We noticed there are rats scurrying outside our house. So, my two older sons, the city boys were wondering how mousetraps work. I told them it is very cruel to set up mousetraps. I said the mousetrap will snap shut and either the rat’s tail or limbs will be pinned down. So much pain……

#2 son said, “What? Only the limbs nia? I thought the mousetrap will snap and break the neck.”

Sheessshhhhh…

I suggested rat cage. I told them how we used to have those cages in our Bayan Lepas kampung house. Sometimes, the rats would be caught in the cage. Next morning, what I would do is to use a raffia string and form a loop inside the cage.

I waited and waited for the rat to run through the loop and when the neck passed through, WHOOSH! I would pull the raffia and choke and strangle the rat to death.

But my mother had other methods. She would pour hot, boiling water to kill the rat. Or sometimes, she would drown them in a pail of water.

I thought telling my two older sons such inhumane, cruel and blood curling methods of killing rats would garner some surprises from them like, “Oh mommy, you are so brave!” or “Awww….mom, you are so cool! You can kill rats?”

Instead, they asked, “Then, after you killed the rats, did you cook porridge or fried them?”

So, yes, Happy Mooncake Festival. I personally think this poor romantic festival had been raped by commercialism. KNN, have you seen how much mooncakes cost nowadays? If you didn’t give a set of 8 mooncakes with birdnests and two bottles of the best red wine that costs RM2,888 to your future mother-in-law, sei ler…..You sure die one, she will put you through an agonising path from here on. You may as well hope you are born a rat and died as a boiled rat or strangled rat or drowned rat.

P/S : Oh yes, I just recalled that when Neil Armstrong stepped foot on the moon, my father rubbished all those praying to the moon. I was about five years old, I think.