What's The Point?

Yesterday, I baked a cheesecake for the first time,following an internet recipe on DyannBakes.com, which recommended careful and painstaking blending of the cream cheese with other ingredients before baking(for fear of bubbles appearing on the cake surface).

When I removed the cake from the oven after fifty minutes of baking, I placed the tin on the ceramic counter beside the oven to cool completely,as instructed.

Incidentally, it started to rain, then pour, when I left to do my facebook tasks while waiting for it to cool.

When I returned about twenty minutes later, brimming with anxiety over the condition of my first baked cheesecake, I found two thumb-sized indentations in the middle of my esteemed creation.

They might have been only a few millimetres deep,but to me, they might as well have been huge volcanic craters!

When I asked the maid, standing a metre away, about it, she confessed she was the perpetrator of the holes because she wanted to 'try' the cake.

I immediately flew into a rage and scolded her, saying, among other things, that that was not the proper way to taste a cake, that I had spent so much effort to make the surface flat and unblemished and now it was wasted, in the midst of a lot of angry words.

Then I proceeded to take a spoon and a flat-based cooking ladle to trying to smooth some semi-set cheese over the holes, but after ten minutes of trying, I only managed to have a estimation of smoothness, not the unerringly flat surface one sees in the best cheesecakes.

After swearing a little to myself, but loudly enough so that she would not be spared my displeasure that easily, I shoved the cake tin into the fridge and stormed off.

And this afternoon my mother, true to her hopelessly-oblivious-to-own-faults way, pestered me to be the first with break the ice with her maid.

I steadfastly and pointedly refused, stating that my pride was more valuable in this case than humility.

When I had had enough of her constant pestering(more irritating than a mosquito flying around your head seeking a soft spot to land to proceed sucking your life fluids) I stated categorically that she was not without her own faults.

This was met swiftly with:

'You're the only one who condemns my faults.'

I expected no better from her anyway.

Then comes the kicker: I think you'd better go back to Singapore(a miserable cesspool of materialism) because you're making my maid miserable.

Moral: Sometime her maid can be more precious to your mother than you!


My stand:WHY should I take the first step in healing a rift that WASN'T MY FAULT in the first instance and resulted indirectly from my having treated this servant so much more like a human being than countless other household servants?