Food's gone, oranges eaten, and it's back to work tomorrow.

This happens once a year, and I'm thankful to be able to have been gone it 26 times.

As I grow older (no one's called me Uncle yet thankfully) and I see the kids grow taller and speak more intelligent sentences (as long as they don't call me Uncle), I begin to wonder when it all will end; when the relatives won't come over and my mum and I won't have to cook, when the families won't bother visiting each other because it's too damn inconvenient, when the festivities involve more than receiving red packets and counting the money the next week so you can tell your friends how much you got.

It's all happening. You can see it changing slowly, and when the age of my parents pass and it's my turn to handle Chinese New Year with my family, I wonder how it'll be like.

I'm old school like that, and I kinda like it.

新年快乐 to all!