Malaysian Ice Cream!

I had my days of fighting with boys in primary school.

My friend and I were sucking away our “ice cream Malaysia” (ice cream in a long small plastic with the flavor of orange or syrup).

Suddenly, a boy, who was chasing another boy knocked me and I fell down, ice cream and all.

I was so mad. I shouted at him.

He then drew a circle on the ground and told me that it was my father’s head. He stepped on it.

I retaliated. Drew another circle and told him it was his father’s head and I stepped on it.

We then had fight. He ran away. I chased after him. I punched him when I caught him. Then I ran away and he chased me. We fought in the field. We kicked each other, it was a real boxing day in school. Everybody cheered and clapped.

The headmaster then came. He gave both of us a stern warning. He then told me that girl shouldn’t pick up a fight with boys.

At home, after school and after a long explanation, my father gave me a pat.

“Good,” he told me, “fight if you need to defend your rights.”

CIKGUTANYA: The boy is now my brother’s best friend.