I thought we were family?

I am surprised.

My dad has been corresponding with my brother via email, and I’m surprised their exchanges were so darn formal.

“Hi Saik,

Further to our discussions this morning(KL time), I have had time to relook at the various options available one more time.

Considering the series of unforeseen obstacles that seem to creep up and also to avoid the possibilty (sic) of making a wrong decision in choice of colleges, it will be prudent to reconsider the merits of staying at BYU to finish your degree and then pursue your master’s at a reputable college (be it Chicago or Boston or anywhere else where sculpture has a strong faculty). The advantages of doing so are quite obvious: “

And then he lists out the advantages, in bullet form.

I remember sending a bunch of CNY photos over to my bro, and all that was in my email message was “Nah, photos. Ma asked me to send.”

Why all the formality and niceness? Redundant, I say!

But that is not the point.

I was reading it, thinking, Oh how nice my bro got accepted into Chicago, and then I read this

“Chooi Yen got 9 distinctions for her SPM (nothing much to shout about as so many students got 12 A’s).”

Urgh, how can I be proud of myself if my own parents say so matter-of-factly that it is nothing to shout about.

(Speaking of grades, I recieved my SAM semester 1 results in the mail today. Ironically, I fared best in Biology. I’ll show you, SPM-Bio-B4!)

In case you’re wondering why I’m reading what is supposed to be a Very Private Exchange Between Father and Son, my dad forwarded the mail to me, because he wants me to print out photos of my brother’s torn passport that my bro has sent to him.

Yes, passport with an entire page torn off.

Only someone like my brother could achieve.

(Or as my mom would like to believe, only Hainanese people could do. She’s always, always telling us, “Sap go hoi nam yan, gau goh ding. Yat goh mm ding zau fat san geng!”)

(Literally tanslated, “Ten Hainanese, nine eccentric. One not eccentric, then completely crazy!”)

(Something like that la.)

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