I didn’t expect this Saturday to turn into a full-day adventure with my family. It began innocently enough with lunch at Subway, simply because we had a voucher for four that would expire the next day. Nothing dramatic, nothing planned. Just one of those small domestic moments where you say, let’s just use it. And off we went.
After eating, we watch Agak Laen 2: Menyala Pantiku! And oh my goodness, my stomach still hurts from laughing. I honestly think it’s funnier than the first one, which already drew nine million people to the cinemas. This sequel feels wilder, sharper, and even more chaotic in the best way. Even my eldest who rarely agrees to go to the cinema, laughing the loudest in the entire theater.
After the movie, we were ready to head home. But life had other ideas. As we passed a bus stop, a little electric shuttle rolled by. My eldest suddenly shouted, “I’ve been wanting to ride that bus for so long!” Without thinking, I said, “Let’s go then!” And just like that, we hopped on, heading toward Intermoda BSD because, perfect timing, there was a garage sale happening.
When we got off at the terminal, the garage sale stretched along a road closed for the bazaar. We wandered together, weaving through racks and tables, touching fabrics, laughing at strange finds, celebrating small treasures. My daughter found a few pieces worth taking home. Thrifting with teens feels like rummaging through possibilities, discovering tiny parts of their evolving taste.
By the time we finished, our stomachs were growling. We headed to a little restaurant where my eldest and I had once eaten while playing games together. But the place had just closed 😟 The owner, who usually runs it with her husband, had to lock up early because he couldn’t help that day. She kept saying sorry and hoped that we'd come back again. We will, someday 😊
We ended up at Peko Rice Bar, and what a delightful accident that was. The food was good, the ocha refill was free, and the owner was warm and friendly. He turned out to be a design graduate too, and suddenly he and my eldest were in conversation, speaking their own creative language. Moments like these feel like quiet confirmations that my children are growing into themselves, finding people they connect with, even in unexpected corners of the city.
We took another shuttle bus home, this time a regular one, not electric. The wait was long, the ride was slower, and we couldn’t be dropped right in front of our complex. We had to walk a bit from The Breeze. But somehow even that felt fine, like the last few peaceful steps at the end of a long, wholesome day.
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