Taboo

Rare is the family in which there aren't taboos hidden somewhere. I encountered two of them this week.

The Chung Yeung Festival falls on my daughter's kindergarten term break this year. We went to my father-in-law's grave - without bringing Jasmine with us. "How can I explain to her in very simple terms that her grandfather is somewhere else and won't come back?" I wondered. "And, what if Jasmine asks me when her grandpa is going to stop being dead so she can have picnic with him?"

Three days later, we brought Jasmine and her cousin to a playground. It was a sunny afternoon in autumn, the kind of weather that brings energy to people. "Should we ask our mother to join?" I asked my sister. I brought that up because we don't seen our mom that often. My sister didn't answer for a moment.

"Um." That word spoke volumes of disapproval.

It's never difficult to understand why we feel pressured to have our mom to join (and give unsolicited opinion). I know that it is no use to stop my mom complaining why her grandson hasn't been potty-trained like the girl across the street, why the bathroom habit of bringing a book in would make the process of toilet learning to go on forever, and countless worries for the umpteenth time. My mom thrives on worrying.

Oh no, why am I comparing the experience of death and meeting my mom here? Of course, that isn't and shouldn't be the case at all.

Fellowship

The president of the Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh is visiting Hong Kong, and we are invited to attend the signing ceremony (after being accepted the fellowship status). I accepted the invitation with alacrity. With this feather in the cap, we feel we're reaching another milestone in our career. If you're a fan of titles - and who isn't? - you'll love the opportunity to have another string of alphabets at your name card.

At first I thought the ceremony would be awesome. Then, as the weeks pass, I begin to regret my reply to join the ceremony, envisioning missing another chance to read bedtime story to my daughter. What kid doesn't like bedtime story? Especially if the cartoon characters are amiable, the tone tranquil and the plot clever. There are good reasons for me to regret: I borrowed the classic picture book Good Night, Gorilla from the library two days ago. This bedtime book by Peggy Rathmann, I was told, is a great read you won't mind reading to your kids a million times. I still haven't had chance to show Jasmine how beautiful this book is.

Chances are, if you ask me, my daughter will be far more proud of a daddy who reads the funny story about gorilla, armadillo and zookeeper than a father who is a fellow from the Royal College.

Good Morning

This paragraph, written at McCafe after sending Jasmine to school this morning, gave me energy in the tens of thousands.

If it sounds comfy, I can attest that it is. I didn't go back to work after a week's holiday at Okinawa, and decided to take another half day off. Jasmine and I could then return the furry moose who had hitched a hike with us. When we were waiting for the morning class bell to ring, Jasmine took out the Okinawa seashells and gave them to her friends. And no sooner had the class begun than my daughter ran to tell her teacher the travel experience.

By the time she started her class, I went to take a sip of coffee, reading Vikram Seth's novel, deeply satisfied.

Okinawa

Jasmine was excited to learn the good news before our recent trip to Okinawa.

This is her fifth time out of town. And there seems to be no stopping us from bringing our kid around the world. The more mileage we go, the more I become confident of her growing up.

Not much hassle with packing diapers is one thing, negotiating with my daughter what to bring is a lot more easier. We planned to bring her own suitcase, and she could not wait to pack it with all her favorite books. But then we decided to scrap the idea at the last minute, worrying about the limited space in the rented car. She was let down, and strangely enough, let go after a while. With that, we gave her thumbs up.

Pleasant memory of this trip, of course, is not a matter of what we didn't bring; the highlight is what we brought with us this time. During a recent visit of my daughter's kindergarten, I read about a Norwegian moose doll that children can volunteer to babysit when travelling. Oh, this is great, I thought, beaming jovially when I showed Jasmine the moose. She giggled and promised to take good care of the moose. Indeed, the moose filled in lots of our photographs (to be shown to other classmates later). Jasmine taught the moose how to walk, showed the moose colourful tropical fish at the aquarium, and hugged it with love.

Without doubt, Jasmine was awed by the opportunity to travel with her school companion. No one would ever mistake this.