Who's in Charge?

I recall how my Dad, at the end of our wedding reception, had told my then new husband, “you are now in charge of her.” Although it’s been 10 years, his words ‘til now so vivid and indelible.

On my very first attempt to cook in our then new home. I plugged my 110V rice cooker to a 220V outlet. My brand new rice cooker got fried in an instant. Mr. Hotpot came home from work with no dinner and a crying new wife.  Since he’s now in charge, we just ate out.

This is one of the first memories we’ve made back then in this new home. Where Dad's no longer in charge. We are. We made no big investment for what will house us for a year (we knew we were migrating), but no details were spared in making this flat our home.

It looked so youthful, it speaks of the age =]

My Hello Kitty collection needed a home.  Kind hub had no objections to it.  Or so I thought.

This is a working kitchen. But it was barely used. We are at either parents’ house most times, or the restaurant we owned, or out.  All the utensils are now here with me. Used and abused.

10 years younger... lol.  Hooray to king-sized bed in a studio type.

I designed the vanity down to the table and plastic baskets.  Carpenters were very accessible back home. And cheap.

The closet divides the sleeping and living area. It was built with IKEA's PAX wardrobe features. We don't have IKEA back there, but its catalogue has been my bible for as long as I can remember.

I have fond memories of this home.  Running the treadmill in the afternoons. Pizza dinner at the rooftop.  Swimming in the cold cold pool.  Basking in the citylights at night.  Watching fireworks.  Big bro sleeping over.  BIL bringing his date to the rooftop.  The simplicity of life we had then. No kids. Just us.

It's our first home away from home.  And we were in charge.