The League of Extraordinary Animals

They said in a group of three there’s one person who is weird. But how come in our case, there’s no one normal? I don’t know. I don’t even know how we know each other.

Beda angkatan. Beda jurusan. Beda kampung halaman. Beda spesies.

Panda Tambun. Kucing Kecil. Onta Banci.

Onta yang tak lagi banci.
Kucing yang sudah menjadi induk kucing kucing kecil.
Dan Panda yang bertanggungjawab melestarikan kelangsungan spesies satwa langka.

From blog, to ym and gtalk, to Rasa Istimewa, to whatsapp group. It’s odd that people who has nothing in common seemingly, clicks so well on almost any absurd topic.

I don’t know what I have done in my previous life to deserve friends like you. To you, I say, a decade of friendship is small steps compared to the lifelong one we will have.

And to my kids, I tell them, “their minions are your cousins.”



KPI for Head of the Family

In this household, the members’ happiness is my responsibility. One member cries murder on regular basis is not a good parameter.


Gatel, digaruk, distop ngamuk.
Kluar darah, diutik2, distop ngamuk.
Diplester, diklenthek, distop ngamuk.
Perih, nangis.

Trus salahku opo?

-Evangeline, 2 years ¾ month

Sakomah gembengan mumet aku. Mboke ndelok korea nangis2, anak e ga onok opo2 nangis2. Bapake ndelok buku tabungan melok mbrebes mili, kadang bingung oq. Iki ndi debet ndi kredit. Melbu karo metu koq unda undi.

Communication Skills of (almost) 2 year old Evangeline

Everyone (Papa, Mama, Angel) is ready for monthly family outing, and suddenly

“Let’s go!”
“Wait Papa!”
“Yes why?”
“Angel poo.”

My daughter is learning to tell us what’s happening to her.

When we reached the Kopitiam (local Food Courts chain in Singapore), the Mother goes to buy the food first while I supervise Angel playing around. Among all of the patrons in the makan place, and suddenly

“Oh no please don’t.”

My daughter is learning to tell the whole world what’s happening to her. At impeccable moment.

About Exercise

People around me know that I don’t do sports. Friends, colleagues, family and relatives. They all know that I don’t have any affiliation to any physically exhausting activity. Not only those who know me well, but those who barely knows me will also have the vibe. I’m not in any shape considered to be physically fit.

I skip company activity related to sports (futsal, hiking, marathon run, etc) because I do not have any interest. After some time the offers died down too. Win-win. I’m still good with colleagues and friends. Because I still join other activities. Like lunch and dinners. I mean, of course others not necessarily related to food, but yeah there’re not many options.

So when people ask me “Do you exercise, at all?”, it got me thinking. “When was the last time I did exercise”. And the question branched out to “Why did I do it?” and “What for?”

So I list them down, the things I do in making choices towards a healthy life.

I eat healthy food even though:

  1. I don’t like the taste, or
  2. the appearance is appaling, or
  3. both 1 & 2

Because my mother told me she’s concerned and I live faraway from home so my mother can no longer force and shove those presposterous things to my mouth. So I have to do it by myself.

I hit the gym because my fiancee wanted me to look better for the prewedding photoshoot and I seconded her opinion. And I regretted my agreement after 5 minutes on the treadmill. Every single session. Yes. I still look fat during my prewedding photoshoot. Yes I didn’t look that fat in the prewedding photos. Yes. I know some Photoshop skills. After I get married, I still jog once in a while. Because of the Zombie Run apps. And they need Runner #5 to play a significant role.

And now. I carry my 12 kg daughter on daily basis. Because she can’t sleep on her own, she either need to be nursed to sleep by The Mother, or carried to sleep by me. I assume this is a form of exercise. That’s for night time, for day time especially weekends, I still carry her around too. Because she giggles when I carry her. I have sore muscles regularly but it’s OK.

So did I exercise, at all? Yes, I do. Because I love my mother, my wife, and my daughter.

I hope to have a long healthy life so they don’t suffer.

PS: Angel is now getting better and trying to sleep on her own. Shutting her eyes and staying still but still face difficulty to fall asleep. Sometime The Mother will pat her to soothe her and sleep. I still resort to carrying her until she’s fallen into deep sleep before put her on to the bed. I did try to pat her to sleep. But I stopped since The Mother told me that even my lowest setting of patting movement looks like I’m slapping my daughter to oblivion.


The Guardian Angels

Greetings, mortal!

The name is Evangeline. Let me introduce you to two of my guardians. Among those who are sworn to be my protectors, these two are the ones bestowed upon with the task of fulfilling my every needs. They go by the name of Papa and Mama.

Papa takes the form of an adult man. During the night he takes form of motionless meat. He has a wide-chested build. This obedient warden has the unprecedented strength to suspend my chariot mid air for a prolonged time, with me inside the chariot, whenever our journey is hindered by the obstruction of staircase. He is undeterred by the distraction panicking Mama makes and always makes me land on my feet on my every leap of faith. Every failure leaps. Every morning this tireless laborer disappear out of the dwelling before I rise and shine. Only to leave me to defend this house with Mama.

And Mama. She is the lady with the obsidian eyes. This Goddess always brings prosperity and warmth. She is the deity with untapped depth of skills. Maintaining the cauldron, spotless dwelling, fresh garments, and you name it, basically everything around the household aided with my constant supersonic scream to cheer her up. She also defeats me numerous of times, seizing the advantage of greater size while forcing me to go through the ordeal of changing diapers, sometime with her swiftness, some other time with her sheer endurance.

Her wardrobe is unusual with a lot of different cloaks with weird places for openings, a passage for me to sneak into. Furrowing between the clothes incision, I find my source of  life. The fountain with the eternal flow of the magic potion. The opalescent, watery substance, that is murky white in colour. It smells like me, but tastes like sugar. Upon shoving this elixir to me, my vision often blurs into abyss. At times when my willpower to struggle outlive her supply of this fluid, she will read the incantation to send me to the nether world. Bottomless abyss. Total darkness. Twinkle twinkle little hoahm …


I do have other custodians whom I met every so often. They had the opportunity to meet me in person, but most of my interactions with them are in the form of astral projection from The Mesmerizer. They called The Mesmerizer a handphone. Hand phone. What a weird name. This does not look like a hand nor a phone.

They always screamed “Evangeline! Don’t play with the handphone!”. Do you think I want to be enthralled in the hypnotizing rays it emits? I tried very hard to look away. I just can’t. And when I manage to glance away and let go of the grip, Papa is always angry “Why do you throw the handphone? I will not let you play with the handphone anymore.”

Good! Keep it! Do you think I want this?

Often I prove my prowess as a scientist, inventing some pattern in the mystery of life. Like, for example, yesterday I noticed that the water in my bath tub, will change its shape when I put it inside another vessel. The water will take the form of the container. Like the bath tub, the pail, the bottle, my hand, my mouth. And before I could tell Mama about this, he already screamed “Evangeline! That’s not for drinking!”

How would you know that this is not for drinking, Mama? How would you. It does taste a bit horrible. And whenever I speak now a little bubble come out from my nose. But it does not mean it is not for drinking.

Everytime Papa and Mama tell me what not to do, I always try to tell them.

“Let it be. The fabric of fate weaves an endless interconnected pattern, in which we all are just threads. Let it be.”

But the words coming out from my mouth is only “pap-pap-pap-pa … ik-ik .. belek.blek. hihihihi.” They just won’t understand. I’m a prodigy whose mind trapped inside the body of languageless toddler.

I laid the matters before these two. Showed them that water can change shape. That The Mesmerizer can travel as a parabolic function if used as a projectile. That with enough willpower papers can be split into two.

But they won’t listen.