The mimosa brings back fond memories of my childhood.
I was a little girl, growing up on Katong. Daddy's girl.
Dad and mom would bring me to Katong Park, sit on a swing, chill out as we enjoy the sweet outdoors.
I remember, was it my dad or my fourth uncle who showed me the thorny weed that was so lively. Touch it and its leaves were closed, hence its name, touch-me-not.
I'd squeal in delight whenever I encountered that touchy plant and run to touch its leaves with my tiny fingers, laughing as I watched the shy leaves close.
