Dear readers, I regret to inform you that the day I’ve feared the most has arrived. No, not the apocalypse. Something far more frightening. Something I never anticipated. Something that would mark this date as a day of infamy (Sorry, I’m watching Pearl Harbor while writing this post).
My Singaporean Mom has discovered how to use the Internet. Shock! Horror! Panic!
Thanks to Google Search and search engine optimization, my Singaporean Mom has discovered this blog. *cue dramatic music*
It all started at lunch, while I was enjoying my honeycomb affogato peacefully and minding my own business as I usually do. “By the way,” my Singaporean Mom said rather casually, as she picked out a bit of honeycomb crumble from my dessert (“Let me tau chiak a bit!”), “I found your blog you know. I read that post on Ninja Boasting and ahem, I know who you’re referring to!”
And then she proceeded to clap her hands with glee as I tried not to choke on the little honeycomb bits in my dessert.
“How on earth did you find my blog?” I sputtered, as my heart raced and rapid thoughts sped through my mind. (First thought: whip out phone and warn the troops! aka my siblings)
“Oh, the server was down at the office and I was bored, so I Googled all your names (in reference to my siblings and I),” she said nonchalantly, as though she were talking about getting a pedicure and not something that would quite possibly ruin my life. “Did you know that there are dozens of Glenn Tans but only one Genna Tan? That’s how I found you.”
Thanks, Google. Really.
You guys need to understand that I got a big shock because:
1) Who would ever expect their parents to Google your name or find you on Facebook? When my Singaporean Dad is online, he’s usually on Bloomberg or Googling things like “Lip trainer Patakara”.
2) My Singaporean Mom is not the most tech-savvy person around. One time, my sister set the screen saver on her computer to a rolling marquee reading “THIS COMPUTER WILL SELF-DESTRUCT IN 10 SECONDS. DO NOT STAND CLOSE. 10….9….” and my Singaporean Mom freaked out and ran out of the room in terror, shouting, “I didn’t touch anything! I didn’t do anything!”. Needless to say, she was not amused when she found out that it was a joke.
Also, my parents seem to think that posting your information (or *gasp* photos) on the Internet is the worst thing ever. Kind of like how, in Secondary School, it was practically horrifying to have your mobile number scribbled on the walls of the Cineleisure toilets. My Singaporean Mom once mentioned that we’d better be careful not to offend anyone, or we might end up having our “photo posted on Facebook”, like it was the most unimaginable thing ever.
Anyway, my point is, Singaporean parents are sneaky. Just when you think that they’ll never find you on Facebook, you’ll wake up one morning to check your Blackberry, only to find a Facebook friend request from your Singaporean Mom (and sadly, not a Shopbop coupon as you had hoped). So siblings, friends, comrades – please be warned of the ninja-like sleuth skills that your Singaporean parents have, and never, ever underestimate them. I really wouldn’t be surprised if one fine day, they showed up at Zouk or Butter Factory, ready to do a few jager bombs and talk about how they found you on Foursquare like a ninja.