Breakfast At Fairwood

(No disrespect meant to the late great Audrey’s role in the novel/ film)

 I’d seen Fairwood chains everywhere – even at Wetlands Park – but it was my parents who made me first notice the chain. Because they come all the way here and then over a nice lunch at ICC Cafe Habitu-of-the-gourmet-coffees-and-teas my mum looks across the ice skating rink down below, spies a Fairwood, and tells me they often eat there when they’re out by themselves in Hong Kong.

There’s an outlet near where Rockstar goes for Putonghua (this was over the hols before school started in earnest), and it’s almost the only thing open at that time (besides Mc Donald’s) and I notice the sugar-free Quaker oats breakfast set with ham and cheese sandwich (HKD 21.50) and walk in one morning. (Only to be hard-pressed deciding between that and oats, toast, sausage and ham set (HKD 23.50) because I want the toast.)

So I’m ordering breakfast and besides a few people in work garb there are old timers happily spending their morning here, some of whom are seriously hi-tech. Old uncles hanging out with breakfast, newspapers – and iPhones, Blackberries and Samsung Galaxies. My mum once pointed out another very old woman who looked like my grandmother texting away at the next table.

(Okla my dad is like that too, the Apple megastore in IFC is like Uncle Disneyland for him – know what he wanted for Father’s Day/ Birthday? That latest iMac Air that just came out. Great way to keep him busy, I figured… Tho come to think of it he wakes at 4-5am anyway to work out (half my old bedroom is now his gym), walk the dogs in Gurney Drive and – yes, read all the heavy news websites.)

This uncle was checking his smartphone ok... lol

<little kiddie voice in Cantonese> “Excuse me, Auntie.”

I turn in time to see a little girl passing behind me, followed by her grandmother carrying a breakfast tray. (There are also quite a few local little kids eating here too, who look to be lower primary school-aged). They sit in the corner next to my table, and after awhile I can’t help asking how old the little girl is because she is extremely well-behaved and articulate in Cantonese with a few English words thrown in, but is very obviously still a toddler. “25 months,” her grandmother says. She’s just finished wiping down the tabletop with a sanitizing wipe before setting the bowl down in front of her, I notice delightedly <sheepish>

When Rockstar was that age I was still hard at work. Reluctantly, a little guiltily, I observe the marked difference between her and Rockstar’s development back then. “Well she is a girl, I wouldn’t expect little boys to be quite that articulate til maybe when they’re 3… When your girl is older, you’ll see the difference.”

But when she asks who had been taking care of Rockstar while I worked and I explain that we are Malaysian and the grandparents don’t live here, she turns grim, shaking her head before I can even finish. “No, you cannot rely on helpers here. We’ve fired three. Even having two helpers at once didn’t work, they had to be constantly monitored – so now Mondays to Fridays I stay over when her parents have to work. I leave on Saturday when my daughter (the little girl’s mum) is around.”

Super-duper well-mannered little girl <swoon> (Yeah I'm a sucker for well-behaved kids... And can't stand brats haha)

And watching her charge finish her macaroni-and-ham, sitting perfectly and inquiring how I’m liking my own breakfast before politely requesting a second helping of her own, I know it’s true.