A Tale of Two Christmas Trees…. And Something Else.

And yet…. not an eye-roll in sight. No mean feat, this. 

We have our twin Christmas trees standing any-ole’-how in the middle of the bedroom because the Miss is perpetually not done messing with them. They’re always messy, and at some point the Miss decided “Ko-ko’s tree (was) not pretty enough” so she’s pretty much taken over both trees. Rockstar’s annoyed, but not annoyed enough to actually sacrifice precious Youtube or Minecrafting time to decorate his own tree, so we’re calling it kind of even.

Periodically the dog knocks them over, but this time it was one hapless Kings – very unfortunately for him, something even breaks. I rush over, because while the flumph-y sound of the tree falling over in our crazy home is not uncommon, something shattering is.

So Kings is picking up little shards of tinsel when Queen Of Everything comes in, sees it……….. and 10 seconds later decides to bawl her eyes out. Like, HUGE drama, requires cuddles from everyone else to the tune of “D-d-d-da-ddy broke iiiiiiiiitttttttt!!!! Daddy’s naaaaaaugh-ttteeeeeeeeeeeeee.” After lotsa cuddles and my wry comment to our new helper, “See. Told you she’s a terror when the dad is around,” which brings a fresh round of tears, and some glaring at me, she even briefly refuses to talk to the dad – much to Kings’ consternation. (How many dads out there can relate to this now? :D)

Now, let me tell you a bit more about what Kings broke – a large sparkly bauble that we can go right back out and replace at Indigo. The Miss knows this. If she had broken it, she’d have been “Oh. Huh.” (Rockstar’s remark) or “Yay, Mummy, now we can look for something else, or “<take charge tone> Let me fix it/make something to replace it.” (My remark.) But because Kings broke it………

Me: Recovered from your fright yet?

Kings: Not really. Wow. 

Me: Don’t tell her. Because otherwise it’s all going downhill culminating in you replacing that bauble with a pony. A real one.

My old Taiwan RM described this kind of thing, “As-ident happen no-buddy hurt is best of unlucky.” And pony. 

Ok, well almost.

Ok, well almost.

That’s a pink Rody we got on sale for the Miss because she was otherwise feeling a little left out while we prepared Rockstar for war his first school camp outing. Extensive packing list (everything to be labelled!) aside, this 3 day 2 night stint – after a big year band exhibition to boot – is really useful for erm, doing a little “housekeeping”: We have these very fit-looking teachers who look to us (parents of precious little kiddies) like they run Marine bootcamps (:D) assure us there are highly qualified, trained professionals and medical staff onhand at BMT Year 4 Camp.

The polite, “there won’t be any porters there,” at Parent Briefing was enough to make us hurry back to check whether our kids can carry their own weight at camp, feed themselves between meals (Rockstar’s bringing instant oatmeal sachets and a flask of warm water which I’ve been told he must be able to carry himself (got it!) and will not be replenished on site once it runs out <impressed in a sick way; there are medical professionals there right?? They can set any broken bones right? Which somehow might arise from making instant oatmeal with tepid drinking water??? :D>

First Child, First Camp, between an exhibition and…….. another fairly big event for Rockstar I’ll mention after the fact because I don’t wanna jinx it… Akan datang. Coming soon.

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“Something Happened And It’s Bothering Me…..”

Errant blogger again, and so I have one of my long-term readers to thank for this one – the two links at the bottom of this post are to the full story. I’m told this happened at a fairly small school in Taiping, Malaysia and the girls are in Pri 2 (is that still 8 years old like when we used to go to school? Cos there are a lot of different systems here, at Rockstar’s school within the ESF umbrella that age translates to Y4, his current year):

  • top girl’s mum gets called by second girl’s mum after a school concert rehearsal where the girls have been informed of their form positions early so they will be going up onstage to receive prizes. Which is about when any school administrators reading will be doing this:
pic from dailymail.co.uk

pic from dailymail.co.uk

  • Over the phone, top girl’s mum is told by second girl’s mum that they’ve borrowed her daughter’s exam papers to compare answers. Even as everyone else who didn’t previously, is now going:
pic from dailymail.co.uk

pic from dailymail.co.uk

  • When top girl’s mum goes to see the headmaster/asst headmaster, she learns that second girl went to see them the day before with her mum, crying.
  • Top girl’s mum is informed that her daughter’s paper was marked wrongly and position in form will be changed after it is corrected. In other words:
pic from sites.psu.edu

pic from sites.psu.edu

  • Fortunately it appears top girl’s class teacher then told top girl’s mum the position wouldn’t change, so no one has to die.
  • The mums duke it out discuss this in civilised manner ending in handshakes in a meeting arranged by the PTA.

My comment: Saw these aunties in HK who sit under one of the flyovers and for (used to be) HKD 20, they will write the person’s name on say, a paper, and take the traditional wooden clog to hammer it and scold them. It’s called the Beating The Small Person Service. (“Small” person is metaphoric for “cheap” person I guess, someone who takes cheap shots.)

In other words, that’ll tell you whether people who take cheap shots exist in abundance, there is an actual “service” for which you pay money. You might not believe in it, but you’d possibly get a great deal of satisfaction and NO jail time for taking a hit out on a piece of paper (“Paper Must Dieee”) instead of an actual person…

Note candles to the lady in grey jacket's right.

Note candles to the lady in grey jacket’s right.

something happened and it’s bothering me part 1

something happened and it’s bothering me part 2

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Rockstarism #390 – Seeing Squares


This qualifies as both a 20 Seconds Of Your Life You Are Not Getting Back as well as a How To Avoid Being Captured By Aliens Conversation. You know, when How To Avoid Being Captured By Aliens (the book) is funny because the author DIDN’T mean for it to be… In this case, Rockstar appears to have been completely serious in this conversation…

Me: Hi darling, how was your day in school?

Rockstar: It was great! We’re preparing for our exhibition next week and I painted this cardboard square blue and red and then put foil on it!

Me: That’s interesting, what was it?

Rockstar: It was a cardboard square with foil on it. I painted it –

Me: Yes but what was it supposed to be?

Rockstar: <getting irritated> It IS a cardboard square –

Me: I KNOW it’s a cardboard square –

Rockstar: Then why are you asking? D-uh…

Me: I’m asking you what it’s SUPPOSED to be.

Rockstar: <same tone> I’m telling you it IS –

Me: You guys are not exhibiting a bunch of squares!

Rockstar: <majorly pissed> They ARE squares!

Me: Do you actually build a REAL volcano, or a REAL earthquake or..?

Rockstar: OH. OH. Oh ok, I’m so done with this conversation. <muttering> How come we’re not building REAL stuff.

Me: How could you possibly build – I still don’t know what you made in school!

Rockstar: <completely straight-faced> Squares. Painted squares <turns around><closes bathroom door gently and locks it to have his shower because he doesn’t want the Miss to barge in> 

And this is a random picture of the kids... and a  long-suffering dog.

And this is a random picture of the kids… and a long-suffering dog.

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