Archive for the ‘3-of-us’ Category

January 22, 2007

does she look like me?

Does Regine look like her daddy? What do you think?

michaelooi  | 3-of-us  | 28 Comments
January 15, 2007

kiddie shows

I’ve been exposed to a lot of kiddie shows on TV lately. Been watching them together with Regine. I’m not sure if Regine really likes them but like any contemporary parents out there, we routinely assume that she does. (but hell, she likes to watch ANYTHING colorful).

Watching these kiddie shows kinda made me realize, on what had I missed during my childhood. I never get to watch a lot of kiddie shows when I was a kid. The TV was never available to me as my mom would hog up the whole tube watching Hong Kong soap operas and western horror movies (golden age of the VHS and Atari) – way until I started schooling. I never got to learn about nursery rhymes. Mom never bought me any nursery books nor taught me any of those children songs. Instead, I was fed with heaploads of Beatles, Bee Gees and some Freddie Aguilar shits. That’s why I grew up loving these old people.

(I can still remember… I actually bored to sleep in my Year 1 & 2 music classes. While my classmates would get delirious stomping their feet and flail their arms in unison like retards, I already knew how to sing the whole length of The Police’s “Every Breath You Take” and mimic that chicken head bob to that popular “Beat It” tune by Michael Jackson – I kid you not)

So when I finally get to watch these kiddie shows with Regine, I kinda realize how weird these kiddie shows are. Weird as in – not conforming to the laws of nature. Yes… I somehow think, the shows aren’t teaching our kids the right stuff. Take for example, one of the shows has this couple of grown up hosts (one of them is a quasi-midget babe with this set of unusually large bosom) that teaches kids how to sing. I know singing is generally ok, but these people are like OVERDOING it. The slightest thing that they happen to find interesting, they would go “Hey let’s sing a song about it!”. They see a cow? They’d sing about cows. They see a dog? They’d sing about dogs. Like, what the fuck man?? I suppose when we didn’t get enough annual increment, it is alright for us to jump up on the table and pull a head bang stunt bellowing heavy metal tunes to vent our anger? That’s just not right.

Then there are those fake animal icons. Bears that talk, for example. I mean… come on… we all know bears… they don’t talk. We’d be damned if they talk. Bears in fact, are extremely territorial and therefore are considered fucking dangerous. Even if they could talk, we should by all means stay away from bears. They’re wild animals and should be left alone. So why do we still give bears so much credit when they just don’t really care? Is our civilization so fucked up that we’re so ashamed to use our own kind to educate our kids? Things that I don’t understand.

I personally have seen a real example of these fake animal icons influencing the young in the wrong way. There was once my mom caught a rat in a cage. Determined to rid the vermin for good, she left the cage under the hot sun to give that animal an overdosage of sunburn. But my 5 year old cousin saw that cage and wanted to free that animal – insisting that the ‘mouse is harmless’ and ‘is friendly’. Being a very direct person, I broke the bad news to him “Kelvin, that thing is not a mouse. That’s a frigging rat. Rats have rabies and they’re mean animals.” Of course, he didn’t know what’s a rat. He only knew Mickey. But unfortunately, little Kelvin overlooked that the Mickey he saw wasn’t the same one that wears a cute red dungaree. Instead, that Mickey Rat had blotches of skin rashes on it and ranked like a clogged monsoon drain. Ugghh. (he finally left that vermin alone after couldn’t stand the hot sun)

So what’s the point really… when we can teach our kids the real stuffs, why do most of us still circumvent the facts of life with fictional characters and ideologies? I don’t know man, it seems like everyone’s doing it. Maybe it’s a trick to make the kids want to learn. But if it comes at the cost of obscuring some of the important truths for a much less important one, I’d rather teach her myself than letting that fake bear do it, right? At least daddy will tell her about how stupid it would be to think that bears could talk.

Come think of it, maybe I should write an early-learning education book for children… hmmm… for charity.

(lucky that my Regine couldn’t understand what the TV shows are about yet. When she starts to show signs of comprehending dialogs, I’m gonna switch her to Discovery channel to watch real bears)

michaelooi  | 3-of-us  | 22 Comments
September 29, 2006

my badass daughter

Emily and I brought Regine to the doctor for her routine checkup yesterday morning. The doctor took a few flips on her records, and found that she has a few overdued vaccinations (or something) and suggested for her to have one of the injections.

That came to us rather unexpectedly, since my mom was away for vacation, it would be hard for both of us inexperienced goofs to handle an upset baby at home. You know, them kids are always upset after an injection. They create nightmares out of thin air.

But neither of us said anything about it… and the doctor sort of went ahead with the plan.

He then examined Regine with a stethoscope, lifted her next to an elevated platform and stripped her naked to have her weight taken. But before he put her bare-ass onto the scale, he made his biggest mistake of the day with this flippant remark –

“Ooohhhh you’re such a BIIIIIGGGGGG baby!” [while having his eyes locked at her nether region]

Now, there are certain things in life that we men shouldn’t say, EVARRR, in front of a woman. And complimenting their weight is one of them. (if you haven’t already known this, then blessed be thee for reading this entry).

The doctor’s fate was sealed from that moment on. Little did he know that, Regine, though still an infant, has already developed the intrinsic reflex mechanism to react to such ‘forbidden’ remark. She peed on his scale. That’s right. She has not learned how to speak, nor fully mastered the motor skill to flip him a bird yet. So she did what she was capable of – she frigging sloshed him some warm chrysanthemum tea… right in front of him, onto his scale.

It startled the doctor alright, but it did nothing to his faith as a medical practitioner. The whole thing looked more like an amusing episode for the doctor and the rest of us, but deep inside me, I knew that wasn’t the light that my Regine wanted to portray. Being her daddy, we sort of share the same frequency wavelength that gives me the ability to emphatically decipher every of her action that may construe certain message… (for instance, when she waves both her hands in a random motion, it means that she wanted me to hoover a piece of mooncake on behalf of her…)

That morning, she was asking all of us to leave her weight issue out of our daily discussions. And she’s serious about it.

To underline the message clearer, she just stared squarely at us when the injection was being jabbed onto her thigh, without emitting a single yelp. That mean, not-to-be-reckoned-with, cold hard stare. It freaked me out so much, that I temporarily lost my appetite for mooncakes. o_O

So, as you can see, it is imperative for us guys to practice some discretion whenever we ‘compliment’ about a person’s physical condition. Especially on a female subject. If you have an opinion about her weight, keep it within yourself. If you need to express it, do it in front of your trusted buddies. Don’t do it in front of her. If you need to do it anyway, make sure you veil it up with plenty of hidden references and then leave. That is to buy you enough time to leave to a safe distance before she figures them out.

I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if Regine were to be 18 years older than her current age. The clinic would have reduced to a pile of rubble, no shit…

michaelooi  | 3-of-us  | Comments Off
September 24, 2006

lassi

If you’ve been to an Indian cuisine restaurant, you probably would have heard of the word ‘lassi’.

Lassi is a traditional South Asian beverage, originally from Punjab, India/Pakistan, made by blending yogurt with water, salt, and spices until frothy. Yogurt is mentioned in ancient Indian texts, and so is buttermilk. Yogurt sweetened with honey is used in Hindu rituals. Traditional lassi is sometimes flavored with ground roasted cumin. The Lassi of the Punjab sometimes uses a little milk and is topped with a thin layer of ‘Malai’ — a clotted cream — also known as Devonshire Cream. Lassis are enjoyed chilled as a hot-weather refreshment. With a little turmeric powder mixed in, it is also used as a treatment of gastroenteritis.

Variations
Sweet lassi is a more recent invention, flavored with sugar, rosewater and/or lemon, mango, strawberry or other fruit juice. Saffron lassis, which are particularly rich, are a specialty of Sindh and Jodhpur, Rajasthan in India.

Another popular variation on the Lassi is the Mango Lassi, which is orange in color and mango flavored.

The Lassi-like Ayran is also popular on hot summer days in Turkey, where it typically contains only water, salt, yoghurt and sometimes lemon.

In areas of the Middle East including Iran and Lebanon, a similar salty yogurt beverage, named doogh, is popular.

During 2002, commercial products resembling sweet lassi began appearing on the U.S. market, with names like “Drinking Yogurt” and “Yogurt Smoothie”.

Source: Wikipedia

Basically, lassi is a type of drink. Fortified with awesomeness.

Today, Regine made me some warm lassi as a belated birthday gift…

Regine: “Uwekkkkk! uwekkkk! wekkkkkkk!”
[translation: “Happy belated birthday daddy. I love you.”]

She made so much of them… that they soaked my shoulder wet and slopped all over the ceramic floor. Ahhh I couldn’t have felt any warmer…

michaelooi  | 3-of-us  | 17 Comments
September 16, 2006

who’s her dearest?

I was scrolling for something interesting on TV when I was interrupted by my mother

Mom : “Regine sucked her thumb today”

Me : “Yeah? I guess I should feel grateful about it.” [press press remote control]

Mom : “Do you know what that means?”

Me : “Uhm… she needs to have a pacifier?” [continue to press remote control]

Mom : “Nooo… It means, she will be very close to her father. It is believed that if a baby first sucks her thumb, she would hold her father as the dearest. If she first sucks the index finger, then it would be her mom. So, for Regine’s case, it’s you”

That piqued my attention. Though the belief may not be scientifically plausible, but I kinda liked the idea of my daughter holding me as her dearest. (and give me lotsss of money when I’m old and broke)

Me : “Wow, I didn’t know there’s such a method to soothsay a baby’s sociality. So, if she were to suck her middle finger, is she going to hold her husband as the dearest?”

Mom : “Heheh, maybe…”

Then what if the baby’s a male, and he first sucks his middle finger? Does that mean that he’s bound to become a homosexual? WHat about the ring finger or pinky? What would that portend? Anyone out there have any idea?

michaelooi  | 3-of-us  | 14 Comments