You will never admit that one day you’ll grow up resembling someone who raise you, but it did, and it’s inevitable. 

The other day I was having a fine Italian dining with my pals, when suddenly we got into this conversation of comparing supermarket prices. I know it’s so much mommy talk, it’s the one you’d hear when you’re 12, when your mom and your aunt starting to say things like,

“I bought this Thailand mangos at market X, and it’s so cheap, you know, it’s only like X Rupiah per kilos”

Then your aunt said,

“No way, it’s not even  mangos season yet. How could it be? Oh, but market X is actually known good for their fruit.”

At that time I was dead boring and wonder why my mom doesn’t just talk about Backstreet Boys and their new album instead, but now I get the gist of why.

As much as now I didn’t get that attracted to Justin Bieber (Biever? Beaver? Whatever). The price comparing conversation just possessed me instantly.

All my friend said was, “ you know that those kitchen towel in Poundland is actually more expensive than in Wilkinson?”

And the conversation finds my button when I then mumble,

“Oh, that was what I’m thinking too. You see, in poundland you get 4 rolls in a pack for 1 pound. While in Wilkie you get 8 rolls for 1.29 pounds. You know you gotta be careful.”


And I was like. Man. How could I know these things? Am I transforming to be the one who raised me?