Filial Piety is Dead

I have lost count on the times I pay more than my share, or pay my sisters' or siblings' share of my father's medical bills.

I received a call from a bill-chasing company on behalf of Mount Elizabeth Hospital, asking me for an outstanding payment of $16, 900.

I was shocked beyond words.

After some unpleasant dealings with Mount E Hospital, I had thought we had settled the payment last year. We split the bills and paid individually, but I soon found out that the deductible amount in my elder sister's Medisave account has not been touched.

My elder sister scolded me for being a busybody and told me to ignore the call in future.

I called the lady back and asked her to check on the Medisave deduction.

Today, I received another call from a bill-chasing company, for an outstanding payment of about $650. This amount was meant to be paid by my third sister. I had asked my three younger siblings to ask her to pay as we do not have very cordial relationship especially when it comes to money. Apparently, none of them wanted to get involved, so I had to do the dirty job.

I also reminded them that he is our father and each of us is responsible for him. I should not be the one shouldering everything.

True enough. My third sister responded,"Cos we didn't decide on class b ward and claim that insurance would cover only to split the costs later."

I asked her if the same reason applies for my father's regular hospital visits which she hasn't paid me for the last two, that she didn't agree to having my father see a doctor on a regular basis.

She left the chatgroup without responding.

So basically, everything can be pushed to me by saying,"I didn't agree to send him to Mount E/SGH/Ward B/the doctor."

Am I the only one who thinks that it's the children's duty to take care of ailing parents?

Evening Tide

I didn't blog constantly for a long time.

I found it difficult to blog when storms of life keep coming at you.

I thought the worst was what happened to my father, that he had oesophagus perforation, and he almost  died from it.

I thought the worst was over, although we still have an outstanding hospital bill of $100k, pending review from the authorities.

Then I decided to pay a visit to the kids' great grandparents whom I haven't seen for 9 months.

We are not close to the great gramps by any measure. There are issues between William and his grandparents so each time, I am the only one bringing the kid/s to visit them.

The great grandfather is in his nineties, but he had always been healthy and strong. He could walk independently and even held a driving license in his early nineties.

But what appeared before me two weeks ago shocked me.

The great grandfather walked with an almost-L-shape bend. Holding a walking stick, the maid had to support him from the back as he inched slowly from the kitchen to the hall.

He asked after my father and was surprised that my father had to go through an extremely rare ordeal.

Then he dropped me the bomb:

He had prostate cancer. The cancer cells had spread to other parts of his body, causing pain to his spine and pelvis.

I felt terrible. I wanted to ask God why all these were happening around me.

I could not blog about something so sad.

I asked myself if my bad luck was coming back to haunt me. Then I had to tell myself that there are more downs than ups in anybody's life, not just me. I tried telling myself that the great grandfather has lived to a ripe old age, and few have lived for as long as he does, but it didn't make me feel any better - he doesn't deserve to die a painful death.

When I broke the news to Coco, tears welled up in her eyes. She shared the same sentiments: he is a good man. He doesn't deserve to die this way.

Last Saturday, I took the kids to visit the great grandparents. I don't know when it will be the last we see of the great grandfather.

The old couple was sitting in the hall. They were visibly happy to see us.

We stayed for the dinner and had the tastiest chicken rice for the longest time. For so long, I didn't know that the chicken rice shop a stone's throw away from Great Grandparents' place was famous for their kampong chicken, and people from far and near would come by just for the chicken rice. When I left at 8.30pm, the shop was still packed with discerning customers.

The maid commented that Great Grandpa finished his dinner well that night. She said that we should join them for dinner every day so that Grandpa could eat so well.

I made a mental note to myself that we would visit them once a week from then on.

When You See the True Colours of Your Siblings

My siblings and I had a big fight over whether my father should be transferred to a restructured hospital.

I had been to KK Hospital, went through lots of pain and trauma, loss of excessive blood and thought I would not make it out alive.

Naturally, I said no.

My 5th sister said that she didn't have the money to pay anyway, but a restructured hospital is much better than a private hospital.

She gave birth to all her four children at Gleneagles Hospital and Thomson Medical, in a 2-bedder or 1-bedder ward.

Now she blames me for stopping her to go to KK Hospital.

She claimed that I said that Thomson Medical was cheaper than KK.

I said,"How is that possible that I said that? I only said that KK's A ward is more expensive than some private hospitals."

I wished I were not such a busybody. I wished I had encouraged her to go to KK. Now I really hate myself for stopping her. Because of the good experiences at private hospitals, she went on to have 3 more accidental pregnancies, resulting in her having to become a stay-at-home mother.

If she had gone to KK, I am quite sure she would not have given birth to so many children. A few colleagues who had been to KK had their last child there. They all claimed the same thing as I did, that it was a traumatising and painful experience.

But she advocates restructured hospitals. She said her nurse-friend said that restructured hospitals have specialised departments for my father's condition.

On knowing that my father was hospitalised, a chat friend made a remark: the one who doesn't pay makes the most noise.

How true!

Then my brother too.

I heard from my elder sister that he is saving up for his wife to open a facial salon.

The only thing he ever says to support the transfer is always about money: the way father is going, we won't be able to pay even if we go bankrupt.

When I insisted I don't want my father to transfer, he said this:

Next time when you have brain tumor, we will send you to Dr (the doctor in charge of my father).

I said: what tumor?

You won't believe what he said: Your brain is up your ass.

That's it.

Even then, on account that he is my brother, I refrained from scolding him.

I just said his eyes only had money and his wife. For his wife, our father could die.

When I told William about it, he said,"How can he say such things when you have helped him so many times?"

I had almost forgot that I ever helped him! I tried to recall how I had helped him:

1) When he just graduated and could not find a job, he took up a $1000 per month job as a telemarketer. The company even made him sign a bond of one year. 2 weeks into his job, he was offered an engineering job with a salary that befitted a graduate. He said since he had signed the contract, perhaps he should continue with it. He had no choice.

I took it upon myself to contact the company, and threatened to report to Ministry of Manpower. After a few days of tussle that was not without emotional turmoil, the company gave in and released my brother from the contract.

2) When he was about to get married, my father wanted a banquet to be thrown in Malaysia for his friends and relatives.

Not one of my sisters wanted to help. In fact, they gave stupid excuses such as "he places his wife above us","he only consults his wife's sister, not us. So let his wife's side help.", "It's not my business."

I told him if there was not enough money, I would fork out $5000 for the banquet, which didn't happen in the end as he made quite a neat sum from the two banquets. I also gave him a $2000 ang pow. William did make some noise over the size of the ang pow. He said that none of my sisters was going to give such a big ang pow, so why should I? I rationalised that being an elder sister, I ought to give my younger brother a big ang pow.

I also quarrelled with the rest of my sisters over not willing to help him. If every one of us came up with $1000, the Malaysia banquet would be comfortably covered. But no. They felt the pinch even when it was $1000. They knew I would fork out the $5000.

And he said my brain is up my ass.

Indeed. My brain is up my ass to have helped him.

I was blind to his fault of loving his wife above everything else. According to his wife, he is a handyman around her sister's house. But back at home, the only thing he ever does is play computer games!

After this episode, I finally see the true colours of my siblings.

I am hurt, and disappointed. I suppose if I had helped a stranger like that, he would be grateful?

My maternal relatives behave exactly like that ie. selfish and ungrateful. Since young, my father tried his best not to visit them unless necessary ie. Chinese New Year. He didn't want us to be like them. But they turned out like that anyway.

If not for my parents, I don't want to have any contact or association with them.

My father will be the reason I wipe out my savings, and slog to pay off the shared $100k medical bill. Apart from that, I want to distant myself from them.

So much for sisterhood

Recently, I seem to be under some quarrelsome star. I had an unhappy exchange with my sisters on watsapp a couple of days after my fight with my third and fifth sisters over my nephew.

It happened that my father had finally given his consent to have a scope done on his colon as he has been experiencing pains in that particular area for quite some time.

He was fed up with his experience at Khoo Teck Puat Hospital and didn't want to go to ANY doctor anymore.

KTP Hospital had expressed uncertainty and ambiguity over the red spots and patches on his skin, even after drawing his blood a few times for examination.

He had to go to the hospital for his follow-up visits for his cataract operation, and following that, the perceived skin problem.

Each time, consultation fee was paid, but sometimes, the consultation was not conclusive, and he had to return a week or two later for a new consultation, which may or may not be conclusive.

Eventually, he got fed up. Even when the hospital was quite sure that he had Lupus, a condition that may or may not attack the immune system, he said he was not going back anymore as 'all doctors are cheats!'

He didn't want to have a scope performed on him either as his god-brother 'had died after doing a scope'.

I managed to find a private specialist who managed to convince him to have a scope done.

So, the bill came, right?

I asked my third sister who had paid the bill first to split it among the siblings who wanted to pay.

The reason I did this is because some of my siblings are not gainfully employed for one reason or another, and they should not feel obliged to chip in.

But my third sister preferred to have anyone to pay any amount they like since it was not a major amount.

I watsapped in jest,"Wah, this amount is not major to you ah? We will all be very happy if you can absorb the amount."

She replied,"You spent your money on TV. I want to see how much you want to pay."

I was shocked that she said this.

I had just paid for a 55-inch LCD TV to replace my 29-inch 7-year-old CRT.


I asked,"Why can't I use my own money to buy something for my pleasure?"

My fifth sister said,"55-inch is too big."

My elder sister said,"55-inch is a luxury."

I was so angry that I rebutted them:

I am the only one who have lived with a CRT for the past 7 or 8 years.
All of them bought LCD TVs for themselves.
At the time when 32-inch was more common, my elder sister bought 2 LCD TVs, with one measuring at 37-inch.
My youngest sister had also just made a 55-inch TV purchase for her four-room flat. Why didn't anyone tell her off?

They all knew how thrifty I had lived. The underlying message in that watsapp episode was:

You have so much money to spare and contribute so little to our household.

Perhaps I have been too naive. I had candidly shared with my sisters about my monthly paycheque, my bonuses. I shared the information out of a grateful heart and wanted them to be happy and relieved that the stupidest child in the family also has a 出头日, that they don't have to be worried that I am leading a downtrodden life anymore.

Please don't be misled into thinking that my pay and bonus are really very fat. I am someone who is not ambitious. When I first started working, I was earning $1,200 (gross). When I knew that my manager was earning $4,000, I told myself I would work round the clock just to have that kind of pay.

For someone who had been through zero pay during the years she studied for a degree and struggled for weeks just to think about whether she should spend $10 on a home necessity, and got so stressed out over the lack of money that she suffered an immunity condition, I am someone who is very grateful for what I have.

I am disappointed with how my sisters see me.

It makes me realise that perhaps all this while, I was the only one who thought that they would be happy for me. They probably thought I was showing off to them!

We are sisters. Didn't they claim that we are close-knitted? Is this what you would think of your sister if we really are close?

Then it occurred to me that they have never disclosed their salaries or bonuses to me.

Strangers are Better

Yesterday, I was at my parents' place.

When I saw how my brother-in-law punished my nephew who is taking PSLE this year, I spoke softly to my fifth sister on how he should not use army style to punish a child ie. by making him do a half-squat and stretching out his arms on a horizontal plane.

She said I was irritating and that I should tell my brother-in-law what I think if I so desire.

Tears were flowing down his cheeks as my nephew struggled to keep his arms horizontally placed and his trembling legs firm in a half-squat position.

So I stood up, went to my nephew and shielded him.

That was when the war erupted.

My fifth sister shouted at me and scolded me for interrupting the punishment.

I shouted back at her, saying that they themselves did not do their part as parents and put the blame on the child entirely.

She blurted,"Yes, yes! Your child go to prestige school! My child go to neighbourhood school! If you are so good, go and teach your students well and don't complain about them!"

I was stunned.

Is this what you have always thought about me?

My third sister shouted at me,"Don't make the punishment ineffective!"

And she said, after the episode,"If you are sooooo good, teach him yourself! Now I know why you have so many problems at work! You only think that your method is the best! You don't know how to work in a team!"

I was stunned, again.

Is this what my sisters have been thinking of me? Think a world of myself? Think that I am the best? Uncooperative? Unable to work with others?

I had mentioned in my private watsapp with my sisters that my students are so weak that Baby could count better than some of them and it is not likely that they could attain the required P3 standard.

Obviously, they read it as "I could not teach for nuts".

I had also confided in them how I found older single women generally more difficult to work with, and how the teacher-aid constantly overruled me in the classroom.

Obviously, they read it as "I could not work with others."

I had told them that my nephew did not do his work and bring his work when he came for William's tuition.

Obviously, they read it as "He is lazy and we cannot handle him."

I had thought that age would mature people. I had thought that sisters are meant for sharing.

This episode confirms my belief that strangers are better than friends, and sisters too! I am just disheartened that we can't even share our weaknesses with our own sisters.

I have never believe that there is one method that works with children. And I have always have doubts with my methods. I never for once thought that my methods are the best.

Just because Coco goes to our (and her, of course) school of choice does not mean that my method is the best, but it does mean that my method did get something into her brain, even if it was for those few months.

The most basic thing I know about coaching schoolwork is: you don't sit on the sofa and play with your phone while your child sits on the floor and do his work. Neither do you let a child look at a paper for 4 to 5 hours and then scold him for not completing it after 4 to 5 hours.

A paper is at most 1h 45min? I know that they had sent my father for a medical check-up that morning, but they didn't check on my nephew immediately after they returned. And upon seeing that he had not completed it, my brother-in-law punished him using the army style.

You would rather play Candy Crush and complain that it hangs on your phone than time your child or coach him doing Math. After that, you scold him for not finishing his work.

If he was not my nephew, if I don't view you as my family members, would I have even bothered?

My mother, my elder and third sisters and my brother said this,"He is somebody else's son!"

'Somebody else's son'. It is always easier to turn a blind eye to somebody else's son when you know he is on the road to get Bs or even Cs for PSLE. It is always easier to turn a blind eye to somebody else's son when the parents themselves can't be bothered with the son's studies.

Isn't he my nephew? Aren't you my sister? So you are 'somebody else' and he is 'somebody else's son' whom I shouldn't be bothered with?

If I didn't rescue him from the abortion table 12 years ago, I would not have bothered.

If I didn't want him to do well and go to a better school, I would not have bothered.

Since when did I compare Coco and his abilities?

Since when did I mention that Coco is better than he?

The only thing I would ackowledge, and remains true, is that Coco, being a girl, had a lot more stamina at sitting at a table. And that didn't come naturally.

It came with a lot of modeling and training, and our insistence and perseverance at sitting at the table with her. If we, as adults, can't even sit at a table for long hours, how can we expect a child to do that? If we ourselves hate doing the papers (even though we really do), how can we expect the child not get saturated after facing the papers for 4 or 5 hours?

I have always maintained that my nephew picked up reading earlier than Coco despite being younger. Isn't that an indication of his natural higher intelligence?

What have you done to him these years that he has fallen behind her?

Isn't that negligence on your part?

I am just so disappointed that even sisters can have such huge misgivings about my good intention.

It's true that I have a lot to say about my sister's upbringing of her kids, but I have always tried to restrain myself from criticising her parenting style. It's when my brother-in-law punishes my nephew using army style that causes me to interrupt.

I know it is not good for the kid to see me defending him while his parents punish, but how different am I from people who don't care when they see someone else's son being mistreated if I let it go?

I understand that beating him does not work (anymore). That is the result of beating him till the stick broke and hurling vulgarities at him since he was just four.

I am far from a perfect parent, but I do know the difference between a child and a soldier, and you should not impose a punishment fit for a recruit on your own son. Neither should you have got him so used to beatings that they don't work on him anymore when he is barely twelve.

My Newborn Niece

To be exact, the latest addition to my sister's family is 3-month-old now. I made these newborn attempts when she was about a week old - in between her pee, poo and breastfeeding. I didn't realise that a newborn could really poo so many times. At least I thought mine didn't - or have I forgotten they did?

My sister and brother-in-law thought the pictures were well-taken. Am glad they did.

 My little endearing helper

 

A Wedding Perfect

It was my youngest sister's wedding last Saturday.

The weather was beautiful, with an interim light shower in the late afternoon, befitting the English saying "The heavens have shed tears on behalf of the bride. She would be a happy bride for the rest of her life."

How perfect is that?

 

 The bride was viewing the gate-crashing via livestream from an iPhone

 Pictures with the beautiful bride

 Her intricate and stunning tea-serving kua-with-an-evening-gown twist

 A 'brother' taking picture for the bride and her 'sisters'

 With her six 'sisters'

 The friendly, cheery and tireless photographer

 The happy groom

 Table setting at the wedding dinner

Yum ... ... ... ...Seng!

A cute and meaningful animation of how the couple met and fell in love, and eventually got married was played before the second march-in. What was uncanny was that we thought the couple was very well-drawn.

Really a beautiful wedding.

My First Maternity Shoot & My Sister's Eventful Pregnancy

I did my first maternity photo-shoot with my fifth sister two days ago.

Right now, she is in labour at the hospital, in anticipation of her fourth baby - a girl, finally.

She had breezed through almost all three previous pregnancies. They were easy pregnancies except for the third one - she had chicken pox in the third trimester. Fortunately, she and the baby turned out fine.

(Even as I am typing this post, Coco showed me an sms from my sister's husband: Baby is out.)

But she had suffered quite a bit this time round.

She developed bad itches all over, especially her legs. They were badly scratched. She had trouble sleeping at night because of the itch.

Then when she was approaching her 36th week, she had facial palsy overnight!

Facial palsy is a paralysis of face, usually affecting half of it. The facial nerves are beyond the affected person's control, such that he is not able to move the affected side of the face. So when she smiled, only one side of the mouth was upturned while the other side remained unmoved. She even had problems drinking and eating as one side of the mouth was not able to move. She could not close the affected eye entirely when she slept either. Her gynae 'assured' her that he got one or two such patients every year and they recovered after they delivered their babies.

We are hoping that the same will happen to her.

Storm in a Teacup to Others. Big Deal to Us

My younger brother is contemplating applying for Singapore citizenship.

It causes a big stir in our family.

We object to him doing it.

We could see why he wants to although he does not wish to admit it outrightly: his beautician girlfriend is from Malaysia and she has been turned down a few times when she applied for Singapore permanent residentship.

I thought about how I could word it before or without bringing his girlfriend into the picture as I knew he would get defensive if I did it. As it is, they are lovey-dovey now, even in our presence. So I was sure he wouldn't listen to my advice if I attacked the ground using his girlfriend.

I began with a recall:
They say you want to apply for Singapore citizenship. I remember you rejecting the citizenship when you were offered during your National Service (NS) days.

For the unaware, Permanent Residents (PR) must carry out NS. While serving NS, they would be offered citizenship without having to apply for it.

He countered it saying that he rejected it because my father did not want him to take it up, and that there was no obvious benefits then. Now, if he were to get married, he can get a flat directly from the government and enjoy the subsidised rate. On top of that, he could get a $3k top up in CPF (Central Provident Fund) next year if he converts by then. It was 'a lot of money' to him.

I felt that what my elder sister surmised was right. He wants to be a Singapore citizen to apply for PRship for his girlfriend. The first-hand flat was more of a bonus.

I countered his reasons one by one:
1) $3k top-up in CPF in exchange for his Malaysia citizenship is too cheap.
He would be stupid to sell off his citizenship for a $3k offer that he cannot even touch!

2) He should ask his girlfriend to apply for PRship herself.
If he converts to apply PRship for his girlfriend, I would feel that their relationship is built on convenience - for the girlfriend.

If the girlfriend gets her PRship, they can buy a resale flat like the locals do, for location.

3) My elder sister had to convert her citizenship about 10 years ago because our block of flat was due for upgrading and the majority of the residents voted for the addition of a utility room which cost $60k in cash for permanent residents, and most people do not have $60k cold hard cash sitting in their bank account for a small utility room.

By converting, my sister could get the room at a subsidised rate, payable through CPF.

She was forced to convert, but he wants to give up his citizenship over someone else's PRship.

4) If he really wanted the $3k, he should go earn it himself.
I gave him examples of how I earned what I wanted:
With a gross pay of just $1.9k, I gave tuition, coupled with my hard-saving-and-scrimping to save up $20k within two years so that I could go study for a degree.

5) My father has a oil palm plantation that he wants to transfer to him. Being a traditional Chinese, my father does want to pass his legacy down to his only son. If he converts, he won't be able to inherit it.
You wouldn't believe what he said. He said that what my father does to the plantation is no problem of his. He probably thinks that the plantation is worth less than S$3k.

I don't want to judge the girlfriend. I am a woman myself and understands her needs and wants very well.

My brother wants to get the citizenship by next year so that he could apply for a flat soon. I can understand how she feels about getting a flat before getting married:

1) No woman wants to be an old bride.
2) It's just about every woman's wish to have her own place right after marriage.

I have no issue with all these and I think it's only right that she gets all these.

But I am so fiercely protective of my permanent residentship that I won't give it up unless a lot is at stake. And I don't want my brother to be a sacrificial lamb for her permanent residentship. I feel that it's unfair to make my brother convert his PRship to Singapore citizenship just so that she can be a PR.

My father applied PRships for our whole family after he became one.

My uncle did the same for his family.

So PRs are able to apply for PRship for their family.

The only thing that we can't do is to get a new flat from the government, which means a lot of money.

I really don't have issues with the fact that the girl is a low-income earner - which explains why she cannot get her PRship despite the previous attempts to apply for one. I am just unhappy that my brother has to sacrifice his PRship to get one for her. I see it as the girl gaining an edge at my brother's expense.

I have nothing against Singapore citizenship. If I had been born a Singaporean, I would have been glad and proud of being one.

The fact is: I am born a Malaysian, so I want to keep my citizenship.

I have never exercised or utilised my rights or benefits as a Malaysian. I live in Singapore all my life. Never voted in my own country. But, like what I told my brother, as long as I keep my citizenship, I have the option of returning to Malaysia one day - to retire or buy a house there. If I give it up, I burn my bridges.

To be honest, it scares me when I read articles of lonely old people living in one-room flats.

I don't ever want to be like that, but with the high cost of living in Singapore and my supposed-to-be-high-but-actually-not-high salary, I don't think I am able to retire comfortably in Singapore. I may well end up like those old folks, waiting for young secondary school students involved in community work to give me rice or canned food. It scares me. It really does. If I become a Singapore citizen, I will be 'trapped' here forever, with no option of retreating to a country with a lower cost of living.

I love Singapore no doubt, but I don't want to lose what I am born with. If anyone feels that I am an ingrate to the land that nourishes and feeds me, do put yourself in my shoe: would you want to give up your Singapore citizenship for another country's?

I probably have said it before, but I wish to say it again: Malaysia is akin to my natural parents, and Singapore my foster. There is no way you can negate either tie with me. Both have their benefits, just that I am not keen to find out more about them for the moment.

After all that is being brought on his platter, and if he still insists on changing his citizenship for the girl's sake, I will let him. After all, he is not my little brother anymore. This is his life, ultimately. I am not living it for him. I cannot make the decision for him. Whatever consequences that come with the decision, he will live with them himself.

My Mother's Birthday

My mother's birthday, my sister's birthday and mine are just apart from each other by 2 days. We celebrated our mother's birthday with a ten-course dinner at a Chinese restaurant in Yio Chu Kang Grassroots Club this year.

The birthday woman had just recovered from a bout of shingles and did not tell us about her self-imposed abstinence from food that were considered 'poisonous' in Chinese context. Among the ten types of food, she only had springrolls from the cold dish, fish, abalone, dessert and peach-like buns which symbolised longevity. We also went without a cake as she considered eggs as 'poisonous' as well.

The place

The food

Happy moment with her grandson
Happy family pic

For a restaurant, the food is certainly restaurant-like ie. better than your typical tzi-char stall.

They were not exceptionally fantastic, but good enough for me to enjoy them. The portion was good. I was full by the time the braised spareribs were served. In all, I skipped 3 dishes ie. spareribs, fish and peach buns because I was quite full.

It felt like a wedding dinner's dinner, and there was really a wedding held there. The couple booked only about ten tables and walk-in guests were allowed to dine in.

The service was good and prompt. The family picture was taken by an obliging waiter and he took the picture so much sharper than my colleague who had a DSLR himself.

We took our time in enjoying the food and company of one another. In fact, we arrived at the restaurant earlier than the wedding couple, but left later than they.

My Sister's Solemnisation

9th September, the auspicious date to marry.

The magazine-style invite
4.30pm - Doing her hair at a regular salon
5.30pm - Sticking the fake nails in the car

6pm - Doing the makeup
6.50pm - (Breathless) We reached the venue

The solemnisation table
Exchanging the vow

Their fate was sealed
(Some of) the food

The people

My mother and her long lost granddaughter

We are all happy for them. My brother-in-law has been very obliging to my parents and accommodating to his prospective sisters-in-law's requests in many ways. He appears to be rather mild-tempered and is the most 'promising' among the boyfriends my sister has. His academic qualification is a few notches above my sister's. While the pessimistic me can't help but worry a little that this might be an issue when the passion wears off, I sincerely hope that they will abide by their vows they had apparently customised on their own and live 'happily ever after' from this day forth.

On the technical side, I went out to get an external flash for the solemnisation. Alas! The hero got nowhere to show his talent (英雄无用武之地）- Firstly, the solemnisation started at 7pm and we only reached the poolside at 6.50pm. By then, it was quite dark and I did not fancy the relatively harsh turn-out of the pictures under a flash. Secondly, I was too busy with Baby to take proper pictures. Thirdly, I did not want to be in the way of the official photographer.

So the flash did not have much of a role to play at the actual ceremony, but it did live up to its good name at the reception. The lighting was dim for ambient purpose, so a flash helped alot.

My sister's birthday

Our parents have got themselves a trip up Genting over the long weekend. Following the ardent tradition of celebrating our parents' birthdays and the two parents' Days, the siblings decided to be united for once and celebrate our eldest sister's birthday in the same fashion last night.

We went all the way to Suntec's Tony Roma's.


My youngest sister reached there first, by train. And she took it upon herself to place an order for a Family Feast. How apt! But the portion was not enough for the big family of siblings.

Original Baby Backs in full slabs. Still not enough.

Steak in medium-rare. Still ...

Pork burgers for the kids. 'Very sour!' they squealed.

Onion rings
Baby in an attempt to imitate the older kids on biting the corn

"Why does it seem so easy with them?"

"Must practice good table manners: wipe my mouth after eating."

The people. We haven't had a shot together ever since the formally taken family portrait The kids excited over the kois

Verdict:

For a Chinese-foodie, I should think Tony Roma's is great. The ribs, steak and chicken are nothing short of tender and juicy, topped with complimentary-tasting sauce. Muu...aa!!!

For food like this, the price is equally juicy. More than $170 for what we ordered, and most of our stomachs were still half-full.