Veins of the Vain

Of late, my little monkeyboy has become very conscious of the way he looks. Jesse is quite the vain little fella. These days, he makes a stand on what he'd like to wear. Or at least he tries.

In a recent episode, Roma had attempted to put on a blue jersey on the boy. He protested violently, kicking and screaming, and resisting. "Black shirt," he decrees amidst the sobs. "Black shirt," he cried, indicating that he'd much rather wear his black little rocker t-shirt rather than any goody-two-shoes baby-blue tee. He also determines what colour pants he'd like to wear for the day, and what shoes to match the ensemble.

Of course there are the good days when we pick out exactly what he wants to wear. That's when the boy will strut around the house proclaiming proudly, "So handsome." Or when he's feeling a little whimsical, then it's, "So cute."

Yes, his mother's veins of vanity courses through his own. :) Then again, his need to be beautiful could very well stem from my side of the family. Most likely my dad - his gramps.

Dad wears boots all the time cos it adds two inches to his stature. He also wears slims shirts and slim pants because is offers him a svelte silhouette. To further enhance its effect, he wears them black.

And then there's his hair which is always perfect styled. Also perfectly dyed. Midnight black. Heh.

Dad's also a firm believer of cologne, gallons of it - just in case, I assume, should he ever bump into a blind person who may not be able to appreciate his beauty visually, they can still do so... erm... olfactorily.

With influences like these, it's pretty clear to see where things might be headed for Jesse. By next year, I fully expect the boy to ask for cash to do his own shopping.

Mini Cliques

After some three months of school, Jesse has settled in pretty well. So well, in fact, that he's got his own little posse of other little guys to hang out with. Imagine that!

The resourceful wife had managed to get her hands on a list of Jesse's classmate from Teacher Lavender. With the info, she starts prompting the boy to identify his homies. "Is David your friend?" she asks the boy, to which he repeats the name. He knows a David. "Gabriel?" No reaction. She proceeds. And so on and so forth.

The boy identifies a David and a Jordan as his friends. Armed with this newfound knowledge, Mae consults the Teacher.

"Really, those two?" Lavender pondered, "He likes the quiet ones, eh?"

I guess he does. And I guess birds of a feather do flock together, even at such a tender age. Jesse is a bit of a shy kid. Which is probably why he's hanging out with the nerds more reserved kids - his quiet little clique of like-minded little boys.

I wonder why that is. I sort of remember being a bit of a hellraiser as a kid. But then, I'm inclined to believe that the memory tends to glamourise the past to make up for a boring existence. Heheh No such luck for Jesse though. It's all recorded here on the internet. Poor kid.

Baby Love

baby-friendly

Jesse's got a little sister.

She's small, plasticky (and quite icky, thanks to the millions of kids who have had their paws all over her) and sits in a shelf in the far corner of Toys 'r Us, 1 Utama. And every time big brother comes to visit, he'll make his way to her shelf, pick her up and cuddle her. And ocassionally when he spots a little stroller close at hand, he'll even take her for a stroll around the place.

And whenever it was time to go home, he'd reluctantly part ways with her. "Bye-bye, baby," he'd whisper to her gently as he planted a loving little kiss on her forehead. (Euww... I know, I know! Icky.)

Still, it's quite a sight, his devotion to her.

I used to fear that Jesse would get jealous should Mae and I ever have another. But perhaps my fears are unfounded after all. And perhaps it's time to fire up the ol' oven. Hehheh...

Together-Gather

Last Friday I turned 36. I also decided that I'd spend it in the company of strangers at the Together-Gather Bloggers Party. One year older but none the wiser, I guess. Hahah!

But the party was a blast, except for the 2 hour jam leading to it. Still, kudos to the organising committee, especially Committee Chairman Wingz. All hail to the chief!

We met a whole bunch of people. Some old acquaintances. Some we've known through their blogs, but never met. Some completely new to us. Some people, we didn't manage to meet. That's mostly my fault. Despite displaying psychotic tendencies here on my blog, I am an excruciatingly reclusive person. Oh well.

Next year, count me in again. I'll try harder then.

P/S: To lazy to name names and link links. Sue me.

7 Tips For Choosing Your Maid

Come May, Roma's contract expires and it would be time for her to go home. And so today, Mae and I went to the agency to select a new maid. While the process is not an exact science, there are rules to follow. Remember you read it here first:

7 TIPS FOR SELECTING YOUR DOMESTIC HELP

1. Always look at the eyes. If your maid looks psychotic, she probably is and will castrate your husband and kill you in your sleep should you ever piss her off.
2. Beware the slut. If your maid looks slutty, she probably is and will seduce your husband, your postman, your garbage collector and your neigbourhood bread man. On the other hand, your mails will never get lost, your garbage bin will be spotless and you get free bread.
3. Guess her age. If your maid is 25, she is probably only 19. If she is 21, then you're looking at a minor. But if she's 28, then she's probably 48. If she's older than 30, chances are she's older than your mother-in-law and will probably behave like her too.
4. No beauty queens. If your maid is hot, you might find your bastard husband sneaking off to her room in the middle of the night. And suddenly you'll wonder why your brothers, father-in-law and your male cousins are visiting you so often.
5. Size does matter. A heavily built maid or one with a large frame will most certainly overpower you in a power struggle. Your death will be senseless and stupid, but most deserving.
6. Maid in Malaysia. If your maid has been to Malaysia a lot, chances are she would have established an underground network of renegade maids who will overthrow your household and take you hostage.
7. Outgoing type. If your maid has indicated in her biodata that she prefers working at eateries, she'll probably run away from your home to work at the local Pub Dangdut. If she's hot and slutty too, you can be sure your bastard husband will suddenly acquire a taste for Dangdut.

T-Rex vs B-Rex

Over the weekend, we had Jurassic Park on TV. Since Jesse likes Barney, who is supposedly a dinosaur, I figured he would probably enjoy seeing some "real life" dinos in action. Besides, I was intrigued as to how he'd take to less wholesome, less colourful dinosaurs. And so I turned down the volume a little, braced him close to me and we sat down to watch.

He really got into it, pointing to the screen when T-Rex made his debut. "Dinosaur," he said, as if to explain to me the proceedings over the idiot box. "Like Barney," I replied. Heh. He was loving it. Even when Big T flipped over a jeep to get to the couple of kids. "Naughty dinosaur, trying to eat the kids," I narrated. He grinned from ear to ear, as the dinosaur terrorised its human co-stars. And then, as the movie goes, the kids get away safely. When T-Rex exits, Jesse turns to pick up his Barney plush toy.

Suddenly, out of the blue, he flings Barney onto the floor and glares angrily at the purple plushie pedo. I hugged him close and asked why he was so upset. But since Jesse is a boy of few words, I'm left to wonder.

Perhaps, it pissed him off that T-Rex's scene was over. Or perhaps he was just mad that T-Rex never got to finish his job. Then again, it could even be that he was upset at the unfair media portrayal of his best friend as a bloodthirsty carnivore. Who knows?

That was also about the same time killjoy Mae gave me a look of disdain that pretty much said that I might have scarred our boy for life. Okay, okay, I'm a bad parent. But I always know how to fix things.

"Let's go watch Barney, yaayy!!!" I cried as I grabbed Jesse's favourite Barney video and headed for our bedroom away from the heat outside. "Yaaay Barney," cheered the little boy, all happy again as he followed me excitedly to watch yet another episode of B-Rex.

Battle Of The Wills

At his age, Jesse is able to understand what we say, though he may not necessarily understand why we say it. Still, as far as conventional parenting in the Tan Family is concerned, it means he's all ready for a good spanking every now and then.

Last week, we sat down to dinner and Jesse got a little difficult. For whatever reason, he decided not to partake of our food. He took a small bite of his hard-boiled egg and he decided that that was enough eating for the day. Despite our pleadings and coercing, the boy decided it was time for TV instead. And so the drama began. The boy wanted TV, and we wanted him to eat. And so we caned him on the palm. I doubt it it really hurt, but Jesse cried his eyes out anyway.

In the end I laid down the law - no food, no TV. I marched him off to bed, fully expecting him to buckle and eat some egg. But, no, it was not to be. This was a battle of the wills and I think the boy understood that to give in meant to give up his rights, his freedom and his way of life... perhaps forever.

And so my little freedom fighter put on a brave front, sucking in his snot and wiping off his tears and trotted off to bed. As he did, he turned around for one last wistful look at our lifeless idiot box and said in a sorrowful little tone, "Bye-bye, Barney."

*sigh*

We have no idea where he gets his strong will. His melodrama, however, is definitely his mother's.

Still, for some warped-out reason, I have newfound respect for my son. Either he will grow up to be a great leader, or he'll end up in jail. Hahah! Let's hope it's the former.

5 Reasons

I don't do a lot of memes on my blog. And for a good reason too. Whenever anyone tags me, I go on over and read about the meme. Then I start composing my thoughts in my mind, articulating every thought, constructing ever sentence and accentuating every nuance in every word. This goes on until next Tuesday when my brains suddenly implode, wiping out every shred of memory of the said meme.

Heh! Anyway, since MOTT's tag is still fresh in my mind, I have decided to do it. On with the show:

5 REASONS WHY I BLOG

1. I like to show off my powderful England. See me juggle multiple adjectives! Watch me tame that dangling participle! Witness as I split infinitives!
2. I am an attention-seeking whore and this blog is an extension of my ego. And it's all for you. Now you can kiss the spot that I blog on and worship me. Bwahahah!
3. I forget stuff and the wife is always trying to pull a fast one. "No honey, we haven't had our anniversary dinner yet." Now I have proof recorded all over the internet. Take that, honey!
4. I have a son whose father is destined for greatness. This blog records their every exploit and will someday provide a great resource for Daddy's authorised autobiography.
5. I love women, and this blog allows me to get in touch with so many of them from all over the world, too! Imagine what it does to my libido. Heheheh!

There! Now you know. I'm supposed to tag five people but I'm too lazy for that.