Year of the Rabbit

My boss created a group chat yesterday greeting us Asians in the Nursing Department a Happy New Year of the Rabbit. I didn’t even know it was Chinese New Year yesterday. But as a reply, I greeted her a Happy New Moon instead and wished her beautiful memories in the next lunar cycle.

I go by the lunar phases now. It just makes it so much easier to break down time into bite-size chunks when I’m not breaking it down into minuscule atoms of ‘now’ — breath by breath, heartbeat by heartbeat.

Many moons ago, back in 2020, my little family and I celebrated Chinese New Year at Springvale, which makes it a legit one because you can tell if a place is authentic Asian if it smells Asian. And I don’t mean that as an insult. As an Asian myself, I appreciate that familiar smell that makes you go “ahhh…” and not “ewww…”

Definitely smells like home.

Which reminds me, I haven’t been to Springvale in a while. Last time I was there was probably that time I complained about the crispy chicken trying so hard to be Aussie, sitting on a bed of salad greens. No wonder it was soggy. The winglets were crying from the embarrassment of cultural appropriation.

Anyway, Jeff’s favourite Cambodian restaurant was where we had lunch on that summer of 2020. Wondering why we couldn’t find parking more than usual and then realizing there was actually a Chinese New Year’s celebration going on, complete with an array of carnival games and a ferris wheel.

There was even a dragon dance but Raven, at three years old, didn’t enjoy that one.

What she wanted to try, though, was the fishing game where you try to catch plastic fishes with a magnetic rod. I can’t remember how much it cost but it was enough to make Jeff and I go fishing in our bags and in our pockets looking for loose change whose sum was a fortune to spend on a game where the return of investment was not worth the initial investment in the first place.

And so we aborted that plan. Thankfully, Raven understood. She’s a practical kid. Never one to chuck tantrums when she doesn’t get what she wants. Of course, I make it up to her in other ways. She’s not deprived. No way.

*Raven at 3 years old

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s