I must have been at prep school or something, but it was a time during which all Turkish people started to get rather tight with packaged and processed food. And one day we met powdered cream Chantilly (or whipped cream) in a box.
Let me tell you what I was doing while my country was busy dealing with “the Coup”, the bombing of the Turkish Parliament and fighting off the religious fanatics who infiltrated the army.
Holidays are quiet in here. Except for her funny little rush, her excitement and little laughters while she tries to wear her new fluffy, pink tutu skirt and golden sparkling shoes. She smiles broadly in front of the mirror and bats her eyelashes.
If you are reading this you might be one of us: those who fear the holidays. As Ramadan Holiday is coming up, I have to say I am not feeling very comfy.
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I have finished the book and delivered it. But I am not feeling comfortable at all. I used to be like this in junior school, before Mme Tampigny’s interesting exams. I would work, but could never be sure whether I have studied enough.
Some days, I really forget what it is to be a super mom. I just do not want to get out of bed or hear a sound. Hours and hours of silence and rest. As if it could change a thing.
Today is one of those days.
