During pool today, someone asked me a weird question. Why is it that I never make much mention of Choco in my blog. Weird, because I thought Choco was mentioned in almost every other post. Anyways, trust me when I say some ask even more absurd questions about Choco.
Privacy issues aside, what do you really want me to say about me and Choco?
Our dates are so boring. Would anyone be interested to know how we manage to flood a friend's condo's public (ha! the irony) toilet with millions of bubbles with turbo bubble technology and me dancing in them, or how me and Choco would play scissors, paper, stone and the winner would take a step up just to finish that awfully long flight of stairs from DXO to Marina Square or how we manage to make either extremely witty or incredibly lame puns like - Choco: Dear, are you hungry? Me: No, I'm Huineng. - or how we would just sit by the steps outside Vivo bobbing our heads and singing to every song we know in Choco's mp3, enjoying the cool breeze and facing Sentosa and its beautiful lights?
Anyone? Nope, absolutely not.
The truth of the matter - and I can't find any more simpler ways to put it across - is that Choco is not my boyfriend, but my caregiver(buying me effervescent Vitamin C tablets), my protector (standing in front of me on down-riding escalators and behind me on up-riding escalators just to make sure I dun fall, erm, too badly), my grinder (for me to bite!), my comfort (saying I'm pretty, even with two big yellowing front teeth), my secretary (booking my dental appointment, remembering brands of contact lens I've tried and how I felt about each of them), my shoulder to lean on, my movie khaki, my breakfast/lunch/dinner/supper buddy (on top of many others, of course) and basically, my everything. And the best thing? Choco's mine.
I hope the above is sufficient to clarify any of your doubts about Choco. =D
