My love-hate relationship with milo

Just finished my second cup of milo today.

I have a love-hate relationship with milo.

Yup, I am referring to that chocolate malt drink in green packaging.

As a child, whilst my friends had "milo peng" in the school canteen, I had just about everything else. I refused to like milo. Whatsmore, I'd claim that ovaltine is better than milo. This is a statement that I'm sure most would disagree with. I do admit now that my claim is somewhat unsubstantiated.

You see, my dad worked and still works for the well-known company that owns milo. Being the very loyal and company-proud employee that he is, he would be full of praise of just about everything that the company manufactures. This was evident even when we were in the supermarket, where he would even "inspect" the shelves to ensure that their products were neatly arranged, much to the annoyance of mum. She would "remind" him that he works for the finance department, not marketing. Every month, we dad would return from work with our monthly order of maggi mee, nescafe, coffee mate and other essential company wares.

So in true yh stubborness, I decided that ovaltine was better than milo, myojo better than maggi, you get the point...

Perhaps that was teenage rebellion, yh style.

Things changed when I left S'pore for the UK. Suddenly, everything that once brought me comfort and security was taken away. I wasn't forced to go to boarding school. My parents offered me the opportunity, which naive 16-year-old me happily accepted (thinking it'll be lots of fun). All of a sudden, reality hit. It's almost as if I had to grow up overnight. I'd lost the comfort of my family, friends, home, routine (or lack of) and here I was, in this cold, dark country, stuck within the confines of a boarding school where I was forced to conform to their routines, where I was "gated" if I was so much as 5 minutes late for housecall, where I had to eat at certain times, shower at certain times and was only allowed out of the school grounds on certain days for a few hours.

Suddenly, all things familiar become much treasured- my family, my friends, even the material things that cannot be obtained in this foreign land. Yup, even the milo that I resented.

With time, I made friends. Many of them were M'sian (I was the only S'porean). I remember one of them telling me that she grew up in a family where every morning, she, along with her 4 siblings would stand in line whilst grandma shoved a large tablespoonful of "Scott's cod liver oil" into their mouths and a cup of milo in their hands. I discovered that milo meant something special to her too.

Milo does evoke warmth in my heart. But I never bought it. A part of me did always feel that to buy milo to bring back to the UK would be no different to admitting defeat. After all, I was always the one who insisted that milo is not nice.

Perhaps I've outgrown that childish behaviour. Just perhaps. After 9 years in this country, I carried my first packet of milo back from S'pore. I've only been back a week and I've finished more than half the packet! Guess I'm making up for all those lost milo years.

I bought that packet of milo when I was in the supermarket with dad. I even half teasingly asked him, "There's S'pore milo and M'sia milo, dad. Which one is better???"
Dad: "Of course S'pore milo!"
Me: "Why?"
Dad: "S'pore one not so sweet."
I couldn't help but smile at my dear daddy's predictable response and happily picked up my "made in S'pore" packet of milo, even though it costs 30 cents more than M'sia milo.

Hah milo... it's marvelous what milo can do for you!
Get a tin, make it a big tin today! (ok, in my case it was a packet)