What the Hell?

If Hell had a showroom, our bedroom is it.

At nights, I go to bed in the hottest place on earth. These days, in this weather, we're clocking about 30-odd degrees Celsius.

Mae doesn't like the cold one bit. She also hates moving air, hence the fan is kept at the lowest speed. We also don't open the windows because my lovely wife is convinced that right outside, is a swarm of vicious mosquitoes hellbent on killing her.

"Honey, no matter how cold you get, you can always put on another blanket, or another layer of pajamas," I reason with her, "but I can't do anything more than removing all my coverings."

But no, Mae likes it Hellish.

Despite the unforgiving temperature, for some reason Jesse and Maddie like to bunk with us. That's when we get to experience a little of the "wailing and gnashing of teeth" as well.

*sigh* What's up with the weather anyway?

Maddie Saves the Day

It was a day like any other. Mom had had an idyllic morning but somewhere in the deep recesses of her gut, was a feeling that all was not quite right. She brushed it aside as gas (hehe!) and went on about her chores.

It was almost lunch and on this day, Mom decided she would fry a fish. Despite the main course being a dead fish, lunch was coming along swimmingly. Then, Mom decided to add in a garnish of Chinese parley from the fridge and so she reached out to open the kitchen door when she realised it was locked.

We do our frying in a wet kitchen just a door outside the rest of the apartment. Whenever Mom cooked, she'd close the door to prevent smoke fumes from entering our home. This time, however, she had accidentally locked herself in the wet kitchen.

"Maddie," Mom called out to her 2-year-old granddaughter, "open the door for Mah-Mah!"

Maddie was in the living room watching TV, but our obedient little girl dropped everything and went to Mah-Mah's rescue. But alas, her tiny little hands still hadn't gotten the hang of doorknobs. The door remained shut and poor little Maddie started crying in futility.

That's when the gravity of Mom's predicament hit her. She was locked in the wet kitchen with no key, no phone and no way of getting out. Maddie, on the other hand, was in the living room with everything but no means of using them.

At 12:30pm, I received a call from my Mother-In-Law. She had picked up Jesse from school that day and had sent him home only to be greeted by Mom's situation. I scrambled to leave, darting out of the office. I was almost at my car when the phone rang again.

"Everything's okay now," MIL said in a sigh of relief, "everything's okay."

Mom has a habit of leaving the front door open, to let in fresh air. I used to heckle her for it, citing that there's no such thing as fresh air in the Klang Valley. Thankfully, this time around, she chose to ignore my words. On this day, she also chose to leave her house keys on the low cabinet within Maddie's reach.

"Maddie," Mom called out. By this time, Maddie had regained her composure and had resume watching TV as if nothing had happened. "Maddie, take Mah-Mah's key and give it to Koko!"

And outside, Maddie's Koko, Jesse was calling out in unison.

My clever little girl shuffled over to the cabinet, reached out for Mah-Mah's keys and retrieved it. Mom, looking through the window from the wet kitchen cheered with joy! Outside, MIL and Jesse rejoiced.

As Maddie made her way to the front door, suddenly her favourite song came on TV. And although Mah-Mah's instructions were explicit, there were more important things in life for our little girl. Like a good song on TV. And so, she paused for a moment to watch it before carrying on with her task. (*sigh* I only wished I were there to witness this precious moment.)

And so, Maddie got the keys safely to MIL and Jesse who let themselves in and subsequently let Mom out of the kitchen.

Strange thing though; according to MIL, the door was never locked. And try as I might, I just can't see how Mom locked herself in. Perhaps there's something unseen at work here. WooOoOOoo...

Don't Cry

Maddie is all of 23 months now. She's talking a lot these days, except the times when she actually wants something in which case she just wails her head off. *sigh* But yeah, she's picking up words and phrases and she parrots whatever we say to her.

But the cutest part of it is, she sometimes offers herself words of comfort, just like we would do whenever she was upset or afraid.

There was this episode when Mommy was leaving for work and poor little Maddie was being especially sticky. Mae tries to sneak out undetected, but unfortunately, the wife isn't quite cut out for such clandestine operations. Picture a buffalo stampede through your front door. Heh.

And so Maddie catches wind of Mommy less-than-graceful exit, and starts crying for Mommy. And in moments like this, I have a place in her world once again. I pick her up and she buries her face in my neck, sobbing her little heart out. And right there in between sobs and sniffles my cute, sweet little baby consoles herself. "Don't cry, Baby, don't cry".

Awwww.

"Don't you cry tonight. There's a heaven above you, Baby. Don't you cry tonight."

Six Years of Jesse

Jesse is six today.

It wasn't all that long ago when he was just an itch in my groin a baby. And suddenly, lo and behold, the boy is six.

Suddenly, he's all independent and stuff. Suddenly he doesn't need Daddy to switch on the lights for him anymore. Suddenly he's operating the DVD player all on his own, and working the iPhone. Suddenly he's Googling, and reading his own bedtime stories. Suddenly he doesn't need Daddy to wipe his ass anymore.

And suddenly I miss it all. Except maybe that last one.

He's even begun dictating the terms of his birthday celebration. "Daddy, for my birthday, I want to go the the place," he explains, "where we eat the fish on the leaf, with the Roti Canai and the sugar."

It used to be McDonald's. But my little boy is all grown up now. *sniff*

In other news, Little Maddie is on her way into her McDonald's phase very soon. Ah, the stories I have to tell. :) More blogging!!!

Stealth Kisses

Maddie doesn't do kisses.

For some reason, our little girl doesn't liked to be kissed. Her lips are no man's (or woman's) land, which can be tough on Daddy cos she's got the cutest little lips that are just begging to be kissed. Heh. But when you come within stinky-breath distance from her face, our baby girl will take all necessary evasive action.

I've tried shaving, so that my stubble won't bother her. Heck, I've gone as far as to brush my teeth and gargle with mouthwash (in the middle of the day, mind you) to no avail. I come close and she'll twist and turn her head. Sometimes she'll even shove at my face. One time I swear she was trying to break my nose and shove the bone up my brain to put me out of my misery.

And then she shakes her head vigorously to display her disapproval. This is coming from a 13-month-old kid. So what's a Daddy to do, but to get creative?

Maddie has no problems kissing inanimate objects. Bring her dolly up to her face, ask her to kiss it and my little girl will crane her neck out to peck the doll. So I do that, but at the very last moment, I pull dolly away and steal a kiss, like a ninja. Score 1 for Daddy. She has since wised up to my ways and that trick's not working anymore.

I also found short-lived success by covering my lips with my hand or a sheet of paper, coming really close and planting one on her kisser. That one's not gonna work anymore, too.

Then one day while I carried her, I put on the most pathetic face I could muster and asked, "Don't you love Daddy? Don't you want to kiss Daddy a little?" She looked at me with a twinkle in her eye, leant forward... and gave me a friendly pat on the back.

*sigh* Guess I'll just have to settle. Until you're ready, sweetheart.

Maddie 365

Maddie turned one 2 Sundays ago. As tradition, we had a little bash for the family. It was like a scene from Goodfellas.

There was Jeffrey and Stevie and Me. There was Gino from the family up north. There was Slicky Ricky and his brothers, Eric the Booze and Two-Tone Tony. There was Tall Joey, who was Lari's brother from the wife's family. Two Jasons. And you had Ashley The Eyes and his gal, Cotton Candy. And Jeremy 2K, who gets the nickname because he owes me 2K.

It was all in the family, but you get the idea. Now enjoy the photos. :)


It's Maddie's first birthday and we're a little liberal with her eating for the day. She gets a first taste of Vitagen and she loves the stuff. Check out the killer pose.


The spread. We catered this from D'Fortune and it was good. An order for 45 feeds 60, with some leftovers. Shhh...


Maddie complaining to Auntie Sue, "There's just too many people here, and they're eating my food!"


The Grisly Sisters (mine), watching Maddie sleep. There's something discomfiting about this picture, because you should never sleep in the presence of these two. Especially when they have marker pens nearby. Trust me on this. Poor Maddie.


The whole village. 60 of us, Grandfathers, grandmothers, grand uncles and aunties, uncles & aunties, cousins, etc. And this is not even the whole family! They came, they ate, they left. Just like locusts, except that we like them and they brought gifts. Heheh.


One for the album. Everyone singing the song, but Maddie just wants cake.


Kids ravaging the cake. This one comes from The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf and it's got all kinds of goodies on top. The little horrors were just picking off the colourful treats, led by their leader, my son. :)


A little flower power for my little girl. Maddie's totally into the cake decoration. She's also into her very first taste of cake.


No it wasn't the kids. This was all Mae. Apparently it's extremely difficult to cut a cake that's got all kinds of candies on it.


Cuppacakes from Wondermilk. Mae bought a whole box of the stuff and ate it for a week. Yeah. Eww. Too much of a good thing, as far as I'm concerned.


Maddie gets her first birthday present. She loves it, if only to jump up and down on it.

It was tiring just looking at all those people. And in the end, it was more a party for everyone else than it was for poor little Maddie. Sorry sweetheart. Daddy will make it up to you every birthday from here on, okay?

Eight Months

Wow. It's been awhile since I was last here. Yeah, I really should blog more, but somehow, life got in the way. And poor Maddie went through 8 months of her life without so much as a squeak. :(

Sorry, Sweetheart, Daddy'll make it up to you. I promise. With any luck, that could well be a nice convertible for your 21st birthday. But for now, it'll have to be a bunch of catch-up posts. Heh.


Fresh from the farm, Little Maddie meets her big brother for the very first time. Although she appears nonchalant despite Ko-Ko Jesse's gawks, we suspect she's just holding back. In time she would develop the very same goofy stare (complete with mouth agape) for Ko-Ko as well.


In the morning of her Full Moon party, Maddie gets her first haircut, courtesy of Grandma & Guys unisex salon. Despite my little girl's lack of hair, my mother takes another swipe at her barren locks at the very moment I had my back turned. Apparently, out of superstition. By the time I realised it, it was already too late. So, instead of stopping her, I stopped time. Via my Lumix LX-3.


In her second month, Maddie sleeps. A lot. Didn't help that she woke only during the hours I was at work. Sometimes when no one was looking, I'd wake her up just so I could enjoy her waking moments. Shhh...


Three months on, and Maddie's still not doing terribly well in the hair department. We resorted to hats, hairbands, bonnets to help "girlify" her a little bit. In the end, I decided to lob off my hair too, just to keep my little girl company. Just so she can look back one day and say, "Hey, Daddy had a silly haircut too!" Mae hated the way I look. Silly woman.


After four months, Maddie starts practicing her bite. On anything, including her very accommodating big brother. She would eventually develop a couple of cute little gnashers.


At five months old, our little princess develops a winning smile. She's also gained a lot of strength in her legs, kicking about every time you carried her, all the while grinning from ear to ear. Mae is all smiles too at this point, since she started to be able to squeeze back into her old jeans.


Right on schedule, at the age of six months old, Maddie learnt to sit unaided. Here, we're prepping for one of those shots that was all the rage in the 70s. You know the put-you-kid-on-a-car shot? Helped that we had Mom's vintage VW at hand. This was also Maddie's first long-distance trip. We went back to my family home in Taiping. She cried most of the way cos she didn't want to be confined in a car seat. *sigh*


For the Christmas holidays, we decided to take another trip. This time a short one to Bukit Tinggi, since Maddie wasn't terribly big on long car rides. The cool weather and the funky threads went down well with our little girl, hence the happy demeanour. BTW, those Vincent shoes she wears, we bought from FOS Kids & Teens. Cheap shoes for under 20 bucks. She can outgrow them without us feeling too much of a pinch. :D


And finally, this just in. At a ripe old age of 8 months a couple of weeks back, our little girl is learning how to stand on her own two feet. Assisted by her own two arms of course. And as usually, Daddy is proud as hell. :)

So there. A pretty long post, after a long break. And with plenty of pictures too. A good restart, hopefully. :)

Girl Power

27 weeks and all girl

Last Friday, Doc confimed that we were indeed, without a doubt, looking at a little girl in Mae's belly. 100% sure. So it's no longer just a guess or wishful thinking.

That means we'll be buying plenty of dresses, hair clips, pink stuff, barbie dolls, chastity belt, and other girlie things. Which is a good thing. If we had yet another boy, the poor little guy will no doubt be inheriting a lot of Jesse's hand-me-downs. And the poor kid might feel a little slighted that Daddy and Mommy never gets him anything new. And that would eventually lead to resentment, feelings of inadequacies and expensive psychotherapy bills. So yeah, girl is good.

Also, it'll be a totally new experience for Mae and me. How do little baby girls behave? What do they like? How do they manipulate their parents? What do they eat? It's all very exciting.

Anyway, now that we know, it's time to get cracking on the shopping and stuff. We're steadily collecting a whole repertoire of pink things from mitts to booties, to jumpers, to towels and such. We'll also need to get bottles and diapers and a cot and car seat and playpen. All the ones we bought for Jesse have been either given away or are in bad shape.

Imagine that. A little girl of own, to complement our little family. It's wonderfulicious! Quick, quick, congratulate me again. :)

Valentine & Old Couples

So yeah. Almost everyone online seem to be calling it Sucker's Day and we're inclined to agree that Valentine's Day is just another excuse for businesses to bleed your wallets.

But Valentine on Saturday was just another Saturday to us. We took the kid to The Curve and let him run loose. Meanwhile, young lovers (and suckers) were everywhere, dressed to the nines lugging around bouquets, gifts and other Valentine paraphernalia. As Mae and I watched with amusement, we were also painfully aware that this part of our lives is now over.

Let's face it. Mae and I are no spring chickens. Pushing 40, married for 7 years with a hyperactive 5-year-old in tow and another in the oven, we don't really get much more alone-time to be together anymore. In fact, it's probably never gonna happen until we ship the kids off to college and stuff. Sure, when Jesse was younger, we could always just dump him at my In-Laws and go for a movie or something, but now that he's bigger, we're never gonna get this past him.

Last Saturday, we took him all over and let him stay at the playground to his heart's content. He had a ball, running up and down like a monkey on speed. By 9pm that evening, the boy was out like a light. And so, after leaving the household under the care of our maid, TheaVy, Mae and I snuck out for our Valentine's Day Dinner. And, having the wisdom of our years (*ahem), we did not submit to the crass commercialisation of the day. There was no bouquet (sorry Honey!), no dressing up, no make-up and no pretenses. Instead, we ended up at our favourite Pokkari haunt in the Chow Kit area, in our t-shirts and shorts.

So there we were, right smack of the seediest side of downtown KL, surrounded by a community of traders, prostitutes, drug addicts and transvestites, backdropped by raging traffic and screeching Mat Rempits. And right there in the midst of it all, we were alone at last. And for a fleeting moment, we were like young lovers once again. Until the night air caused our bones to ache, that is. Okay, I was kidding about that last part! We're not quite that far over the hill yet.

So yeah, Valentine's Day may be Suckers Day to you, but hey, we old couples need this. If only as an excuse to drop everything for a couple of hours and pay attention to each other again. Tragic as that may sound. :)



happy valentine's day

Reunion Menu 09

year of the pig?

What an exhausting Chinese New Year. For the very first time, this year we hosted the Reunion Dinner, and since then, our kitchen had been busy on almost daily basis.

For the reunion, I SMS my siblings the menu:

Today's Reunion Dinner Menu:
1. Salted Vegetable Duck Soup,
2. Crispy Roasted Pork Belly,
3. Buttermilk Prawn,
4. Sweet & Sour Fish,
6. Tan Yoke Lin Famous Fried Chicken,
7. Steamed Free Range Chicken,
5. Roasted Black Pepper Brinjal,
9. Poached Baby Spinach with Oyster Sauce,
8. Stir Fried Mixed Vegetables, and
10. Canned Lychee for Dessert.

It was ambitious, to say the least. Cooking chores were undertaken by Mom, me, Mae and our maid, TheaVy with a little help from my sis, Jo for item no. 8.

Mom's Salted Veggie Duck Soup was a hit, even though she underestimated the amount of salted veggie she would need. She does this a lot, but hates it when I point it out. Hahah.

I got the Siew Yuk recipe from BabeInTheCity which got me started, and got more tips from HappyHomemaker88 who provided a very good step-by-step pictorial approach! It turned out fabulously even though I didn't manage to get a whole slab of pork belly which would have made it so much better. I'd try this again but probably not anytime soon, since my cholesterol levels have probably hit the roof over the New Year season.

The Buttermilk Prawn was disastrous. The prawns we got from the Hypermart weren't fresh and we further destroyed it by not frying it brown enough. And getting the crispy bits of egg yolk right was a feat in itself. Ugh! We'll do better next year, or die trying.

The fish was ok, even though the presentation could have been better. At one point it looked like something you'd feed your cat. But the Sweet & Sour Sauce saves the day by camouflaging it all.

Mom's Famous Fried Chicken is legendary. It's always a hit and it was all gone before the rest of the dinner was done. Everybody loves Mom's fried chicken except for Uncle Eric and Auntie Winnie. We didn't invite them, hahah! However, Mom's steamed kampong chicken didn't get very far. I hate kampong chicken. It's tough and way too skinny to be any good. Imagine chewing on a rubber tyre. Kampong Chicken is worse than that.

The Roasted Brinjal was a little charred, but tasted fantastic all the same. Baby Spinach is a no-brainer as it would take a real doofus to screw that up. Finally, for the Mixed Veggie, our guest chef took over the wok and it was as it should be.

There was so much food we forgot to open the cans of Lychees we had bought. And there was so much work I forgot to take pictures. *sigh* Except for the Roast Pork Belly which I did much earlier in the day. Oh well. Maybe next year.

Reunion Again

Last year, while choking down a totally soul-less reunion dinner at a Chinese Restaurant somewhere in Kepong, I pledged that never again will we submit to the commercialisation of the Lunar New Year. And cut to a year later, Mae and I are in the midst of preparing to host this year's Reunion.

And for the last couple of weeks, all we have been doing is shop, shop and shop. Mini-markets, wet markets, supermarkets and hypermarkets. If there were such a thing as Ultramarkets, we'd have been there too. I have a newfound respect for my Mom who's been doing this year after year after year.

It's crowded everywhere. Everyone's buying stuff and the market folks are making a killing.

Large prawns are RM76 per kilo. That was last week. This week, I'm sure we'll by paying close to RM90. My colleague, Evelyne, buys her prawns 2 months in advance. She cuts them, cleans them, puts them in a container immersed in water and sprinkled with a pinch of sugar and freezes the whole ensemble. That apparently keeps the damned things fresh and springy come New Year's Eve. And she should know, since her family's in the F&B business. But Evil Evelyne decides to share this knowledge only now. So yeah. Evelyne sucks. Heh. Anyway, I'm getting my prawns from Tesco or Giant where it'll be half that price.

Arrowheads, or Nga Ku, is being sold at 36 sen per 100 gms (I think) at the Tmn Megah Market. Giant sells it at 26 sen. And if anyone tells you, "Nah, Giant's arrowheads are not fresh," slap them in the face. Cos it's the same thing. They even come in the same white cardboard boxes. And with that, I've officially joined the Auntie Club of Wet Marketing. You'll know you're a bona-fide member of the club, when you find yourself hanging around and joining in the banter between the likes of the fish guy, the veggie lady and auntie from SS2.

As for the Reunion Dinner, I'm trying to get everyone to hang out at the house from afternoon onwards - to help prepare the food, cos that's half the fun. But knowing the lazy people that I grew up with, they'll probably arrive just in time for dinner.

Maybe I'll spike the dinner. Heh.

Medi-Christmas

'Twas a Tuesday 'fore Christmas, when all through the house,
The wife was moaning, groaning, "Oh, why do I feel louse?"
"In all the merriment, preparing for the season";
"Perhaps you're merely exhausted," I reasoned.

I led her to the room, and tucked her to bed,
And made sure she would get some rest instead;
"In the morning," I said, "You'll be feeling much better"
But as it turns out this was beyond mind over matter.

Came the night before Christmas, we propped Mommy at the table,
And served her a cooking of which we were able,
A dinner of Turkey and sausage and some baked potatoes,
And for colour, we even threw in some tomatoes.

The turkey was dry, and the dinner was quite crappy,
But there was still Christmas morn to make us feel happy;
But unfortunately, even that wasn't to be,
For the next morning her fever shot up a degree.

So we bundled Mommy off to the infirmary,
(But not before we opened some gifts for Jesse);
To the clinic she went and the doctor did gaze,
Upon the sickness that was written all over her face;

"I'm afraid, dear young lady, there will be no respite,"
Doc said, "when an Aedes Mosquito has taken a bite";
So she drew out some blood to quickly confirm it,
And it turned out to be Dengue! Confound it!

We sat there dumbfounded, but the doctor was quick,
To know that it was of our baby, we were worried sick;
"The baby is fine," said the Doc, "Just take care of your wife"
"Feed her 100 Plus and for God's sake, keep her alive!"

So we went home to rest, and I got round to thinking,
Of the doctor's statement, there can be no mistaking;
When I tell you my theory, in me you must trust,
That doctors must be getting commission from 100 Plus.

Yeah, we spent most of our Christmas holidays going in and out of the hospital but it's all good. Both Mae and Baby are fine. Thanks to crates of 100 Plus, coconut water and papaya leaves. And tender loving care, of course.

Sex Talk

Sorry kiddies, its not that kind of sex talk. :) But seeing as to how family and friends have been speculating about the sex of our 2nd child, I thought I'd talk a little bit about that.

My father is convinced that our new baby would be a girl. "Just look at Jesse," Pops said, pointing to that twist in Jesse's hair where his parting line began. "It's off to the side." Apparently, if a kid's parting starts at the centre of his head, his sibling will be the same sex as he is. At least that what my father says.

Mae has her theories too. "Look at my breakout," she says pointing at her less-than-porcelain complexion. "While boys will give you beauty, girls will rob you of them," says my still-lovely-and-beautiful wife. *Ahem!

Mom is far less scientific. "I think it'll be a girl," she proclaims, "because I'd like a grand-daughter." She then crumbles under the pressure of her own prediction. "Maybe it'll be a girl," she says but only to finally settle for, "I hope it's a girl". Poor Mom had always wanted a girl but fate dealt her a three-of-a-kind Jacks instead, in her real life game of... erm... poker. Heheh.


big brother is watching

Anyway, during our last visit to the doctor, we had spotted a dark shadow between Baby's legs, putting the matter to rest, at least for awhile. Until yesterday, when we visited Dr. Huam again.

We looked intently on the screen as the good doctor carefully negotiated the handpiece all over Mae's tummy. As she did, Baby gave us quite a show, moving arms and legs about, yawning and just plain being cute. At least as cute as a foetus could be. Jesse was thrilled that he was starting to recognise bits of his little sibling on the ultrasound. Then came the highlight.

"I dun see anything there," I said. Doc nodded, "Yup, it looks like it might be a girl." And there was joy and laughter all around. In any case, we'll have to reconfirm on our next visit in January. Who knows, the little tyke may be hiding his family jewels. But as of now, it's a girl.

Good girl!

Moved To Tears

We have finally moved house over the weekend. And no, it wasn't so much an emotional time, as it was frustrating. I hate moving.

I hate the whole deal about moving. I hate packing. I hate unpacking. I hate carrying stuff. I hate arranging logistics. I hate carrying stuff. Yes, I said that already, but I can never say it enough. I hate carrying stuff. The whole carrying stuff thing leaves an undesirable taste in my mouth, not to mention excruciating pain in my upper back and my heels.

Sometimes I thank God that Mom put me through school and whupped my ass whenever I floundered in school. Otherwise I might have ended up in a job carrying stuff and that would really, really suck balls. (And I don't mean that in a good way!)

But sometimes I ask for it. Despite hiring movers to help me get my stuff, the sight of three elderly guys carrying huge boxes of my crap guilted me into helping out. Unfortunately, I was the only one in my house up to the task. It was either me or my four-year-old son, my pregnant wife, my good old Mommy, or my skinny imp of a maid.

Anyway, the house is a mess, both of them. A lot of out stuff are still in boxes in the new place. Meanwhile, the old place looks like a post-apocalyptic wasteland. You'll be surprised how much junk someone can amass in seven years in a 900sqft apartment. Despite having thrown out bags of stuff over the last couple of weeks, we still have plenty left over to bring to our new home.

As for the new home, it'll be some time before it starts feeling homely. It'll also be awhile before we get around to having curtains. Heh. But, we're settling in. Jesse loves the place. Mom is thinking, maybe she's ready to leave Taiping for good. Thea Vy, our Cambodian maid is thrilled, despite the fact that she'll have twice as much floor to mop. As for Mae and I, this is a home 6 years in the making, and we may even start appreciating the fact once the horror of moving has worn off.

I'd upload some pics but I'm still reeling from the weekend that was. I'm sure I'll get around to it, eventually.

Garlic Man Returns

Once again, Garlic Man, the caped crusader of the culinary condiment comes a-calling. And along for the ride, his new trusty sidekick, Garlic Boy! Poor Mommy doesn't stand a chance.

Last weekend, I take the boy for a day out, just to give Mae a little peace and quiet. In her current condition, she's really not up to moving about and so Daddy takes over entertaining the boy. After a long day out, father and son, with maid in tow, decide to sit down to a nice meal of Teppanyaki.

Jesse hardly ever eats, and so when he started digging into his Chicken Teppan, I was elated. I was even more so, when he started walloping those lovely crispy garlic bits that come with every serving of Teppanyaki. My boy was eating everything now!

Unfortunately Mae doesn't share my enthusiasm.

"You fed the boy garlic?" Mae groaned, her face pale with disgust, "I can smell it off of the both of you." And this, despite the fact that we had showered and brushed our teeth.

And so, there was no love that night. Garlic boy slept and arm-length from Mommy while Garlic Man enjoys his newfound singlehood on the living room couch. *sigh*

Unremembered

carbon copy?

I've been away from home too long.

There was the whole crazy couple of months of nights in the office. There was the company trip to Bali. And even when I touched down at KLIA on Monday at 6:30am, I came right back to work shortly after. And I have been at work since.

Last night was an all-nighter. And right about 6am this morning, I started to lose my mind a little, so I took a stroll around the office building. As I did, I thought about my little family. There was Mae, the wife. Long hair. Lovely complexion (most times). Strong nose. Nice eyes. Tall, almost my height. Slender. And sexy, as long as she doesn't wear those purportedly comfortable but definitely hideous checquered shorts she likes to wear at home.

Then I thought about Jesse. And suddenly, my mind just drew a blank. The wheel was stuck and the hamster inside was probably dead. I thumped the side of my head to reboot. I tried Alt-Ctrl-Del but nothing worked. Try as I might, I couldn't remember what my poor little boy looked like. Not at all. I got the name right, but the face just wasn't registering.

I panicked.

Thankfully I always kept a couple of his passport photos in my wallet. I flipped the billfold and there he was, just like I (can't) remember him. And then I quickly went back to my computer to look at our shots together.

*sigh* I don't think I can make up. Not ever. Looks like I'm gonna be wrapped around his little finger for eternity.

I gotta get my ass home.

Police State

Three years on and I'm turning out to be a shitty father.

Jesse is a good kid, by my standards. (Which isn't saying much, since I have always had plenty of tolerance for kids.) He doesn't demand for stuff, throw a tantrum in public, or behave like a little A-hole when he doesn't get his way. In fact, he's usually obedient and quite the charming kid. But that's all out the window when it comes to eating, and sometimes, school.

"If you don't eat your lunch," I'd threaten, "the police will come and catch you!"

Right about then, he'd usually look over his shoulder suspiciously, to make sure there are no cops about, afterwhich, he'd proceed to eat like a normal human being. It works for days when he doesn't want to go to school. He'd be crying and throwing a fit. Until his impending arrest.

"If you don't go to school," I'd tell him, "the police will come and catch you!"

And instantaneously, whiny-boy becomes shiny-boy.

When Jesse was still swimming about in Mae's womb, I told myself that I'd never use frighten my boy into submission. But three short years later, I'm breaking my word over and over. *sigh* Worst of all, it's so bloody effective I'll probably use it again and again. The way I see it, he'll probably grow up to hate me for it. Or he'll start slipping me fifty Ringgit notes to look the other way.

I'm sorry, son. Daddy loves you too much to yell at you. Not when all I want is for you to eat well and have a good education.

Angry Boy

"Today, I'm very angry," my little boy tells me last night in bed. He was probably upset that he had soiled his diaper, and that I had told him off about it.

"Who are you angry with?" I asked.

"I'm angry with Kakak," he answers spitefully, redirecting his anger to our maid, Anie. "Well, you can't be angry with Kakak," I advised, "not if you want her to wash your bum-bum."

As Anie was dealing with him, she enquired about his temperament, "Jesse is angry with Kakak?"

"Nooooo," he answers in the sweetest little voice. "Jesse is angry with Mommy," explained the little politician, in the most matter-of-fact tone that a four-year-old can muster. However, all that time the boy didn't know that Mommy was within earshot.

"What!?!?" Mae's blood-curdling voiced boom from inside our bedroom. "Why are you angry with Mommy?"

With that Mommy's faithful little subject scurried into the room before the Queen. He stood there looking most apologetic, as he wracked his brain for a good save. And then it came, "because Mommy always makes the floor wet."

Mae is always making a mess of our bathroom, and I once unwittingly told the boy so. The little rascal had stored this, and probably other tasty bits of information to be used to negotiate his release in sticky situations. And while the boy gets Her Majesty's royal pardon, Daddy gets a boot to the head for releasing sensitive information to the child. Hehheh.

No Eye See

I have a tendency to leave my spectacles all over the place, so this morning's episode wasn't terribly unfamilliar to me. Except that after over one hour of searching, the damn glasses were still nowhere to be found.

"Honey," I called Mae on the phone, "did you happen to see my glasses?" Nope. "What about Anie," I asked if the maid had seen it. No again.

By then I had overturned the entire house. I was late for work. And the bloody specs were still nowhere to be found. So, I decided to go to work blind. As I left, I called the wife again.

"Maybe Anie accidentally broke them," I presented my conspiracy theory to Mae, "and decided to get rid of the incriminating evidence." While I spoke, I found myself making my way towards the trash disposal room, half expecting to rummage through this morning's garbage. Thankfully, I came to my senses.

As I drove, I called Mae again. "Maybe you took my glasses."

"Of course not," she snapped, quickly losing her patience. "I can't wear your glasses without getting a headache!"

"Maybe you put them in your handbag by mistake," I suggested, sheepishly. I was getting desperate. "It could happen."

"Don't be silly," Mae scoffed. Damn woman scoffed at me. And I took it like a downtrodden little boy, defeated. Wasted and spent, by my cheap hundred ringgit glasses. And a wife who scoffed at me.

Half an hour later Mae calls.

"Erm... hehe... I have good news and bad news," said a self-righteous monkey of a klutz on the other end of the line.

Ho ho ho. Sweet revenge.

Head Wound

"Jesse fell and cut his head!" Mae's voice quivered over the phone on Friday. My mother-in-law had tried to send him to the neighbourhood pediatrician but it was closed. I called MIL. Over the phone I could hear the boy screaming.

"Clean the wound, and apply pressure to stop the bleeding," I snapped orders through the chaos, remembering what little first aid I learnt at school. "It stopped bleeding," MIL advised and added, "Drive safely"

I can only guess what a traumatic experience it must have been to see her grandson bleeding profusely. I stepped on it.

I got there about 10 minutes later and it was an alarming sight. Both MIL and Anie, our maid, was covered in blood. My boy had cried himself to sleep in his kakak's arm. When I walked over and saw the wound in his forehead, I recoiled in shock and tears welled up in my eyes. It was a deep cut, 40mm long and about 6mm deep. I was dumbstrucked.

"Mae is on her way back," MIL said, "she said to wait."

I snapped out of whatever stupor I was in, and got up to leave. "I don't want Mae to see this," I explained. I doubt it she would be able to handle it.

The drive took forever with the lunch hour jam. On one hand I was thankful that Jesse was asleep and not crying and screaming. And yet, on the other hand, there was my precious little boy laying silently in his Kakak's arms with a gaping wound in his head. I didn't know what to think.

When we got to the hospital, Jesse awoke. Despite the pain he must have been going through, he didn't cry. "Are you okay, boy?" I asked. "Yes," he said in a sad little voice. It pained me.

The doctor was out for lunch and so the nurse covered the wound with a wet dressing. And all the nurses at Megah Medical Specialist Centre consoled the boy and told him what a brave boy he was. He was.

Mae arrived shortly after with a bag of goodies for the boy and it cheered him up plenty.

The doctor examined the wound. Apparently, it was so bad that it his muscle was cut. Mae saw it for the first time and her eyes went red.

The nurses restraint him and the doctor administered a local anesthetic jab into the wound. He struggled and cried a little. I almost did as I saw his forehead swell before my eyes from the injection. "He won't feel a thing when I stitch him up," Doc explained, "but he will probably cry out of fear."

By then Jesse was in good spirits again. By the time we were ushered into the operation theatre, he called out cheerfully, "See you later, Mommy," much to the nurses' amusement. He was thrilled with the little robe they let him wear, oblivious to the cut in his forehead.



In the theatre, they strapped him tight on the gurney. He started crying and begging me to let him loose. I had never felt so helpless in my life. The doctor went as quickly as he could, to spare the boy the agony. After two layers of sutures, some 11 stitches in all, I unstrapped him and hugged him close, and everything felt alright again. I guess I needed it as much as he did.

By the time we left the hospital, he was all happy as if nothing had happened. And over the weekend, it had been all good. No nightmares, no fevers and no crying.

But for Mae and I, and my Mother-In-Law, things may never be the same again.