Seeing as how my Singaporean Dad is one of the main stars of this blog, I decided to tell you a little bit more about him.
My Singaporean Dad is unlike regular dads. He doesn’t play golf, smoke cigars or lounge about at the country club. Instead, he does yoga (which he claims has made him as strong as “a raging bull”), has an anti-snoring breathing machine (which incidentally also looks like a toxic mask), and hangs out at the fruit section in Isetan’s supermarket.
Do not be fooled by his (lately receding) potbelly, for he is trained and highly skilled in the martial arts. One time he asked me to pretend to throw a punch at him, and he dodged it like a ninja and stuck his arms and legs out in what he called an “attacking crane pose” (think Kung Fu Panda-style). He then grinned cockily and said, “Ha! Still swift like a monkey.”
Despite his passionate belief that Facebook is the devil, my Singaporean Dad is pretty adept at social media. He has Twitter (which only has 2 posts so far, but he’s a busy, busy man) and a Skype account (My sister got a shock when she accepted his friend request and his big face popped up on her screen. He was wearing these tiny reading glasses, like the kind Grandpa Simpson wears, and said, “Hah-lo? HALO? Can you hear me? HALO?”). He also recently added me on Blackberry Messenger, and I’ve just about gotten used to receiving random messages with a certain disregard for punctuation. I.e. ‘are you busy kicking some asses at kickboxing you better come home and eat yr MOONCAKE or i will eat all and nothing left for you then you cry (insert BBM crying icon here)’.
My Singaporean Dad likes to refer to himself as KoolDad, and for good reason too, because he is pretty awesome. Whenever we failed our ting xie in Primary School, he wouldn’t yell at us but would instead sign “Tan Pangsai” on our test paper as a joke. Obviously we thought it was the funniest thing ever, until my laoshi looked at it suspiciously and demanded to know if I forged it.
My Singaporean Dad also gets up to the most unexpected things ever. One time he disappeared for about an hour while we were at Pier 39 in San Francisco, and everyone thought he was off having a coffee somewhere. Instead, he came back with a sweater printed with a picture of Indiana Jones. Except, instead of Harrison Ford’s face, he had gotten his face photoshopped onto Indiana’s body. I would totally post up a picture of that sweater, but I think my Singaporean Mom threw it out when it got old and ratty.
I could go on and on about the things that my Singaporean Dad gets up to, but I’ll stop here for now. Stay tuned for more on the escapades of my Singaporean Dad.