In this entry, I'm going to gripe about this man who lives about 3 doors to my left. Now, I'm not against foreigners or something bashy of that sort. I wouldn't want "bloody foreigner" thrown at my face if I were to visit say, the land down under one fine day (that is, if I can gather enough spare change from under the carpet - oh yes, I have spare changes jiggling out of my ears!!). Hey, I'm a firm believer of what goes around, comes around.
I've met this man's son many times. He's one of those from mainland China. A very nice young man who cycles to the factory nearby every day, earning a decent living for his wife and two kids, one boy and a recent addition, a cute baby girl with eyes as round as fifty cent coins. I'm such a sucker for babies with big adorable eyes.
All went well until the man's parents (the one I'm griping about) moved in. While the wife is motherly and nice enough, (I've tried my smattering of mandarin on her and it didn't work - really), it's the father's uncivic-mindedness that gets on my nerves.
Here's his routine everyday. Every morning, he will bring his grandaughter downstairs. He'll carry her here, there and everywhere. Every evening, he will do the same thing. In fact, everytime I'm downstairs (going to and from work, or go buy curry leaves at the last minute) I'll bumped into him. You'll think there's nothing absolutely wrong with carrying your grandaughter downstairs to get fresh air right? You have not heard the whole story yet.
One evening, while stopping at the void deck to rid the letterbox of junk mails and (wish I could get rid of it too) endless bills requiring immediate attention, I chanced upon the old fella again with his oh-so-cute-grandaughter. They were both sitting at a specially made ledge designed for residents to sit and enjoy the breeze which was lovingly provided by the HDB. What happened next literally made my jaw dropped.
He casually slid aside the grandaughter's panties (she's not wearing diapers) and made this sound "shhhhhhhhhh..shhhhhh" right there on the seat!!!! The fuck was he trying to do??? He was actually, encouraging her to pee on the seat! Right there.
I gestured wildly at a small drain nearby and signalled him to let her pee there. Old man just smiled, nodded and "shhhhhed" away, not moving a single muscle. I was like "This is not your country lah!!!..." turned in digust and stomped towards the lift.
That was not the only time he toilet trained her. In fact, I saw a couple of incidences where he'll just carry her to one side and let his grandaughter shower the grass near the playground for the whole world to see. She's even got this custom-made pants with slits in the crotch for easier business dealings. Then, with the buttocks still dripping wet, he will casually straighten the pants and carry her away, his shirt sleeves darkening with the telltale spread.
I've got colleagues at work with babies who'll count to the last cent the cost of each baby diaper. If they could see what this old man does to save on the cost of diapers, I'd bet they would eat their calculators - batteries included.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Birds, Bees and the Cuckoos
Something distressing happened yesterday. I was, as usual, engrossed with work while thinking of ways to get rich quick without having to go through the usual nonsence like direct marketing, obscure offshore schemes, internet scams and pure hard work.
At exactly, 11:12am (God, it's not even lunch yet!!), I received a call from dear Teacher. My heart, missed a beat. A call from a child's teacher is not exactly a social "How-are-we-today? Here's a hundred gazillion dollars for you to stop working your ass off and spend more time with your kids" call. It's always something very grave, very serious and enough to make your what-I'm-going-to-do-with-a-hundred-gazillion-dollars dream came to a chalkboard screeching halt.
Apparantly, teacher received a complain from so and so's mother that Danial has been watching "pornography on YouTube in the internet". This is not the first time this boy's mother has been complaining about my boy. To put everything in a cup, this mother did not want her boy to be mixing with mine.
So, teacher adviced me to draw a line somewhere and teach my son on the ethics of web surfing bla bla bla like I'm a cyber retard. So and So's mother also think that all these boys talk on body parts should stop as she did not want her child to be exposed to these "dirty things" and it is not healthy for a seven year old boy to talk about filthy stuff like these.
Of course, being un-witty, unclever and unstreetwise, I just "uh-huh" "yeah" "hhmmhhed" my way through the conversation. You would have asked why I didn't say anything? Firstly, there is a slight truth in this whole hoo-haa. Sad to say, I am actually guilty of it too because I happened to go against the norm and conforming to what society dictates. However I must admit, I knew this day would come. The day when dear teacher would need an explanation on our liberal views on the natures of life.
True, Danial has been surfing the net as soon as he learned how to talk. He didn't go through the basics of an overpriced toy laptop in Toys R Us. No, he went in straight for the real thing. Afterall, mummy and daddy met in cyberspace and the internet has been a part of life even before he was conceived.
From educational websites, interactive cartoons to featured sites on his special obsession - trains, Danial learned a lot from the world wide web and always within our presence. Lately, he's into wrestling. The hubby has been into it since as long as he can remember. Wrestling came a close second in hubby's life ranking after his friends, his two sons and his parents. I ranked somewhere at the bottom near his pile of laundry.
Whatever it was, I was a bit apprehensive at first because I knew eventually, our sons would be drawn into it as well. Afterall, watching half naked men fighting over a belt has always been a family affair. I'm ok with it as long as Jeff Hardy, Chris Jericho and John Cena is in existence.
Being testerone filled as it is, things wouldn't be complete without the WWE Divas whose only decision in life is to decide to appear in Playboy or not.
To generate more income to supplement their steroid stock, they will ask the public to vote if Maria should make it to next month's Playboy cover. It's all in the name of entertainment really. Afterall, we all know wrestling is just one big drama and they're only entertaining us although the hazards are real. So, whereever you are, please, don't try this at home....ok, sorry, cannot resist that part.
But the message we drove into Danial's head were serious. He should never, ever attempt these moves on any human being, safe for Tigger (he's outgrown Winnie the Pooh). The poor lanky soft toy has to endure the RKO, tombsone, 619-whatever move on the big bed in the guest room on one of Danial's "berangan" moments.
Where You Tube is concerned, Danial has been exposed to it only under our supervision. I've voiced out my concern to hubby for being too open with the kid. I mean, we've been to school before. Kids talk. They couldn't differentiate what is right and what is wrong and they'll tell the story like it is. Apparently, his friend, Edward came from a more sheltered background and listening to her son talking about "where do baby's come from" and why do you call this "cuckoo bird" and not a penis came as a shock to the mother who complained that Danial is a bad influence on her beloved child.
Of course hubby went into an emotional tirade when he heard about the complain. As usual, I shelved my "I told you so". What's the point? I've shelved too many "I told you so's" to care because hubby is the type who would rather fall down and broke his nose before learning his lesson. Any "I told you so's" now wouldn't help matters.
My take on this whole saga is that a child should not be shy of his body parts. What he's discussing could jolly well be Trish Stratus's plastic bussom in YouTube. Please lah, just look at the girls nowadays. They wore their bra in public and no one gives a hoot. In my time, (ahem) fashion is colours, style and taste. Now, the epitome of fashion is two strips of red thread holding a cloth the size of a 20 cent coin.
Maybe I'm being defensive but I always belief that you have to be professional in handling these things. If the mother do not want her child mixing with my boy's liberal discussion of Fiona Xie's boobs which everyone can see on Channel 5 anyway, then by all means, go and sit the child somewhere else. But I wonder how it would be if teachers start talking about sex education during civics or when the boy discovers the wows of the opposite sex and lost his virginity at age 15 because his mother wouldn't tell him why his cuckoo bird gets a big erection everytime the girl at the next table asks to borrow his pen. I have not even started on the National Service part yet....
The conclusion reached was that Danial was not supposed to discussed these things in class. Afterall, the main reason for going to school is to study and make friends and generally have the time of your life. Maybe our method is wrong but dear son would need to know why he has to be circumcised soon. Couldn't we just leave his bird alone, it didn't trouble him. We can't just say "so that it would be clean". A seven year old boy would retort back that he always washes them, so it's already clean. Why need to be cleaner? Why? Why? Why? The questions are endless and we have sworn not to become like our parents.
I get a good scolding when I got my first period. My mom says that I keep playing police and thieves with the neighbourhood boys, so the blood is a punishment. I was made to feel guilty on something as natural as my menses. I didn't know that sex is done "that way" until I'm all of 14 years old when a group of us sat at a corner during home economics. We grew tired of watching teacher trying to teach us how to fold a cloth diaper (helloooo, I've been folding cloth diapers in huge piles ever since I was nine!!!) so we grouped ourselves in a corner and some smart mouth started asking the hole-in-one (no pun intended) question.
I was horrified of course, not at the diaper, but at the graphic image of sex painted by one of the story tellers. You mean, his "that one" and my "that one"...ewww!!...But I still did not know you can get babies from that so-called gross act. It's just too complicated. Sweet Dreams books didn't cover all these. It's always a case of I-thought-you-thought-that-she-thought-that-I thought love triangle and ended up with the boy kissing the girl in the last page.
Mills and Boons were hiding behind weird phrases like "they explode in unison, bathing in euphoric nirvana" to get their points across. It didn't even came close to describing what the hell just happened. Of couse, at that time, I have not discovered Jackie Collins yet.
If my parents were to tell me all these, at least, I could've embraced puberty with strong arms and a somewhat normal mental state rather than being made to think that I've done something wrong just because I'm a woman. Schoolwork, pimples, jealous teachers who thinks your skirt is always too short and boys unhooking your bra in the middle of class for fun are causing too much problems already.
Horrific childhood experience aside, I hope I can be a good mummy to my boys. I'm always debating whether I should be like our parents and leave things as it is or be the new generation of parents who are open and liberal. But then again, our parents never have to deal with nonsence like these because in our time, there's no internet, downloading is a strange word and cellphones only exists in science fiction books. These days, you can get information without taking the trouble to go to the library. How do we feign ignorance and tell them that the male cat is actually searching for fleas on the female cat while the two have a go at it under our car?
It's going to be a long journey but I'll be there to explain all the questions and the rationale behind all our actions. I just wish I could say the same about mother-teacher situations though.
At exactly, 11:12am (God, it's not even lunch yet!!), I received a call from dear Teacher. My heart, missed a beat. A call from a child's teacher is not exactly a social "How-are-we-today? Here's a hundred gazillion dollars for you to stop working your ass off and spend more time with your kids" call. It's always something very grave, very serious and enough to make your what-I'm-going-to-do-with-a-hundred-gazillion-dollars dream came to a chalkboard screeching halt.
Apparantly, teacher received a complain from so and so's mother that Danial has been watching "pornography on YouTube in the internet". This is not the first time this boy's mother has been complaining about my boy. To put everything in a cup, this mother did not want her boy to be mixing with mine.
So, teacher adviced me to draw a line somewhere and teach my son on the ethics of web surfing bla bla bla like I'm a cyber retard. So and So's mother also think that all these boys talk on body parts should stop as she did not want her child to be exposed to these "dirty things" and it is not healthy for a seven year old boy to talk about filthy stuff like these.
Of course, being un-witty, unclever and unstreetwise, I just "uh-huh" "yeah" "hhmmhhed" my way through the conversation. You would have asked why I didn't say anything? Firstly, there is a slight truth in this whole hoo-haa. Sad to say, I am actually guilty of it too because I happened to go against the norm and conforming to what society dictates. However I must admit, I knew this day would come. The day when dear teacher would need an explanation on our liberal views on the natures of life.
True, Danial has been surfing the net as soon as he learned how to talk. He didn't go through the basics of an overpriced toy laptop in Toys R Us. No, he went in straight for the real thing. Afterall, mummy and daddy met in cyberspace and the internet has been a part of life even before he was conceived.
From educational websites, interactive cartoons to featured sites on his special obsession - trains, Danial learned a lot from the world wide web and always within our presence. Lately, he's into wrestling. The hubby has been into it since as long as he can remember. Wrestling came a close second in hubby's life ranking after his friends, his two sons and his parents. I ranked somewhere at the bottom near his pile of laundry.
Whatever it was, I was a bit apprehensive at first because I knew eventually, our sons would be drawn into it as well. Afterall, watching half naked men fighting over a belt has always been a family affair. I'm ok with it as long as Jeff Hardy, Chris Jericho and John Cena is in existence.
Being testerone filled as it is, things wouldn't be complete without the WWE Divas whose only decision in life is to decide to appear in Playboy or not.
To generate more income to supplement their steroid stock, they will ask the public to vote if Maria should make it to next month's Playboy cover. It's all in the name of entertainment really. Afterall, we all know wrestling is just one big drama and they're only entertaining us although the hazards are real. So, whereever you are, please, don't try this at home....ok, sorry, cannot resist that part.
But the message we drove into Danial's head were serious. He should never, ever attempt these moves on any human being, safe for Tigger (he's outgrown Winnie the Pooh). The poor lanky soft toy has to endure the RKO, tombsone, 619-whatever move on the big bed in the guest room on one of Danial's "berangan" moments.
Where You Tube is concerned, Danial has been exposed to it only under our supervision. I've voiced out my concern to hubby for being too open with the kid. I mean, we've been to school before. Kids talk. They couldn't differentiate what is right and what is wrong and they'll tell the story like it is. Apparently, his friend, Edward came from a more sheltered background and listening to her son talking about "where do baby's come from" and why do you call this "cuckoo bird" and not a penis came as a shock to the mother who complained that Danial is a bad influence on her beloved child.
Of course hubby went into an emotional tirade when he heard about the complain. As usual, I shelved my "I told you so". What's the point? I've shelved too many "I told you so's" to care because hubby is the type who would rather fall down and broke his nose before learning his lesson. Any "I told you so's" now wouldn't help matters.
My take on this whole saga is that a child should not be shy of his body parts. What he's discussing could jolly well be Trish Stratus's plastic bussom in YouTube. Please lah, just look at the girls nowadays. They wore their bra in public and no one gives a hoot. In my time, (ahem) fashion is colours, style and taste. Now, the epitome of fashion is two strips of red thread holding a cloth the size of a 20 cent coin.
Maybe I'm being defensive but I always belief that you have to be professional in handling these things. If the mother do not want her child mixing with my boy's liberal discussion of Fiona Xie's boobs which everyone can see on Channel 5 anyway, then by all means, go and sit the child somewhere else. But I wonder how it would be if teachers start talking about sex education during civics or when the boy discovers the wows of the opposite sex and lost his virginity at age 15 because his mother wouldn't tell him why his cuckoo bird gets a big erection everytime the girl at the next table asks to borrow his pen. I have not even started on the National Service part yet....
The conclusion reached was that Danial was not supposed to discussed these things in class. Afterall, the main reason for going to school is to study and make friends and generally have the time of your life. Maybe our method is wrong but dear son would need to know why he has to be circumcised soon. Couldn't we just leave his bird alone, it didn't trouble him. We can't just say "so that it would be clean". A seven year old boy would retort back that he always washes them, so it's already clean. Why need to be cleaner? Why? Why? Why? The questions are endless and we have sworn not to become like our parents.
I get a good scolding when I got my first period. My mom says that I keep playing police and thieves with the neighbourhood boys, so the blood is a punishment. I was made to feel guilty on something as natural as my menses. I didn't know that sex is done "that way" until I'm all of 14 years old when a group of us sat at a corner during home economics. We grew tired of watching teacher trying to teach us how to fold a cloth diaper (helloooo, I've been folding cloth diapers in huge piles ever since I was nine!!!) so we grouped ourselves in a corner and some smart mouth started asking the hole-in-one (no pun intended) question.
I was horrified of course, not at the diaper, but at the graphic image of sex painted by one of the story tellers. You mean, his "that one" and my "that one"...ewww!!...But I still did not know you can get babies from that so-called gross act. It's just too complicated. Sweet Dreams books didn't cover all these. It's always a case of I-thought-you-thought-that-she-thought-that-I thought love triangle and ended up with the boy kissing the girl in the last page.
Mills and Boons were hiding behind weird phrases like "they explode in unison, bathing in euphoric nirvana" to get their points across. It didn't even came close to describing what the hell just happened. Of couse, at that time, I have not discovered Jackie Collins yet.
If my parents were to tell me all these, at least, I could've embraced puberty with strong arms and a somewhat normal mental state rather than being made to think that I've done something wrong just because I'm a woman. Schoolwork, pimples, jealous teachers who thinks your skirt is always too short and boys unhooking your bra in the middle of class for fun are causing too much problems already.
Horrific childhood experience aside, I hope I can be a good mummy to my boys. I'm always debating whether I should be like our parents and leave things as it is or be the new generation of parents who are open and liberal. But then again, our parents never have to deal with nonsence like these because in our time, there's no internet, downloading is a strange word and cellphones only exists in science fiction books. These days, you can get information without taking the trouble to go to the library. How do we feign ignorance and tell them that the male cat is actually searching for fleas on the female cat while the two have a go at it under our car?
It's going to be a long journey but I'll be there to explain all the questions and the rationale behind all our actions. I just wish I could say the same about mother-teacher situations though.
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