Monday, February 26, 2018

Fatherhood

It's not just mums who end in a funny mess with child care. We dads can have a tough job when mums are busy elsewhere.

To understand my situation today, try a simple mental exercise. Think about what it would feel like to prepare my daughter for school when my wife has been occupied with an early morning operation. Come to think about my domestic maid who has also left. Dads of the world - count me in please - can make neither decent lunch box nor ponytail for their daughters. I hadn’t worried about my ponytail skill - or lack thereof - said about me as a dad, but I just knew my daughter wished it was her mum doing her hair. Pretty challenging, right?

Wait a minute, I hear you say. Isn't it good to have taken a half day off to prepare for picking up your daughter in the afternoon? I did. Ah, it's a good plan that can go awry. I received a phone call from the school bus nanny in the morning, way before my scheduled leave in the afternoon, and was told that my daughter threw up on the way to school.

Watch out. The washing machine had leaking water all over the floor at home too. Not a joke. A host of exciting jobs for a dad.

Moments later I reminded myself a recent report from medical journal The Lancet Public Health: the first head-to-head comparison found that single fathers had three-times higher mortality than rates in single mothers and partnered fathers. I went to washroom to splash my face with cool water. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. When I opened them, I congratulated myself for not being a single dad. In an instant I felt better, much better than those poor single dads.

Friday, February 23, 2018

Olympics

Thanks to the timing of our Karuizawa ski trip this year, our family have been watching the Winter Olympics much more often than before.

This also gives me a great chance to teach my daughter how the Olympic ceremony director Konstantin Ernst owned up to his mistake four years ago. The Russians faced international mockery after a technical glitch during the opening ceremonies of the 2014 Sochi Winter Olympics, when one of the five snowflake-like figures of the Olympic ring failed to unfold. For illustration purpose, YouTube watching is the best way for replay of that embarrassing moment.

Imagine that you're Konstantin Ernst. And, hey, Vladimir Putin is looking over your shoulder. Even my eight-year-old daughter (without an iota of idea about Putin) knows what I mean. She was amazed when I told her how the ceremony director reclaimed or reappropriated the blot. Come what may, Konstantin Ernst decided not to let his ego stand in his way.

Here is what Konstantin Ernst did. In the closing ceremony, a group of dancers stayed tightly packed together when the rest of them recreated the Olympic rings. This joke, in effect, replicated the four-out-of-five Olympic ring motif of the faulty snowflake from the opening ceremonies. The audience loved it. They laughed, and my daughter applauded.

Tuesday, February 20, 2018

Influence

We have heard about the way parents shape a child's development. Well, it turns out that the other way round applies. The relationship is two-sided; parents and children shape each other.

No surprise then my daughter also changes the style of my holiday. Little did I imagine booking a ski resort before, not to mention taking a ski lesson myself. As soon as I knew our daughter's craving for skiing, I made up my mind that I'd better learn a knack for the sport, and take her with me on the chairlift.

The first thing I quickly learned during our Karuizawa family ski trip is the joy of influencing each other. As equally fascinating as zooming downhill, the private time for two of us talking with each other during the chairlift is precious. We talked about everything, but the best bit of conversation was how she thanked me for bringing her up as a bookworm. If anything, she wants us to be even more bookishly bookworm family. Like so many, many trips before this one, we have brought a truckload of books. The oldest one, in case you're interested, is The Naughtiest Girl Again by Enid Blyton, first published in 1940.

Sunday, February 11, 2018

Recollection

One of my most vibrant parenthood memories is the sensation I'd have when I cradled my newborn in my arms.

And as much fun as it is now to go bike riding with my eight-year-old, there's an equal thrill in revisiting beloved moments at her newborn or toddler stage. Yesterday, a photograph popped up from the camera roll of the Facebook "On This Day" feature, reminding us of the very first time we took our daughter to Shatin Central Park on our own.

That picture of our two-month-old girl in mom's lap is easier to recall than those with minimal or mundane associations (for instance, the 123rd errand to buy diapers). Still, the picture itself is a profound reminder for me and my wife, the way an action potential firing magic spark across a synapse. There simply is no way to scroll down the Facebook News Feed and not be awestruck by the autobiographical memory.

If you don't have time to visit Facebook that often, an occasional detour to its time machine named "On This Day" is well worth exploring.

Saturday, February 3, 2018

Marking

What happens when a student gets only 70% of the examination answers right but receives a score of 96?

I know this is a trick by assigning a total score of 137 instead of 100, now that I have read the book of the behavioural economist Richard Thaler, who had the temerity to let his students get a numerically higher score but the same grade. And that's not all, Thaler made a candid disclosure, printed in bold type, in his course syllabus: "Exams will have a total of 137 points rather than the usual 100. This scoring system has no effect on the grade you get in the course, but it seems to make you happier."

But ah - so what? All his students still felt happy. Alas, Thaler never got a complaint that his exams were too hard since then.

There is no way his students' reaction could be declared rational. One simple explanation is that humans are irrational. And we are.

To those of you who are addled why he chose the number 137, Thaler gives two good reasons. Ponder this: the average score will be most likely in the range of 90s, with some students even getting scores above 100. It doesn't take long to generate an ecstasy reaction. Second, his students won't bother to convert their scores into percentage when dividing one's score by 137 isn't that easy to do in one's head.  

To follow the example of Richard Thaler, I should perhaps make a statement too: "For those of you who have been unhappy with the scores, please don't read this blog. Lest you become less happy from learning about my new way of allocating total score, please forget what I've written."