If you know Daf and I personally or read this blog long enough, you would know that we were both classmates from the same university and took a course that landed many of my peers jobs in the media industry.
And apparently being young parents is a news angle because we get approached for soundbites more often then I would have liked.
Daphne has been in the news for her wisdom-in-a-neat-box quote of ” a wedding is but for a day, marriage is for a lifetime.” Hear, Hear.
We also (reportedly) beat the recession of late 2008-2009 by stocking up on expiring can food and a diet of spinach and tofu.
So some time back, she did yet another email interview with a writer friend from a woman’s magazine which had to be weird because it was another of those too-much-information types.
The first signs of regret came quickly – a few weeks ago a colleague (more of an acquaintance actually, he was from the other side literally and figuratively speaking, but the devil is in the details and I don’t want to sin) came up to me out of the blue and said “Hey! I saw your photo in this woman’s magazine. Man, you looked different back then, dude.”
I mumbled something about putting the “fat” back in “father” and made a quick escape, scrambling to recall which it magazine it was and the context of the story.
Stepping into my boss’ office on the same day brought a cynical, split-second stare and a rhetorical “I read your article. Good job there.”
And the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back came when a colleague that sat right behind me (no escape!) spun her chair around and blurted suddenly- “I saw your wedding photos! Man, i dig those suspenders. You looked different back then.” Incidentally, this was the same girl that declared my virility to the entire office when she found out that Daphne was pregnant with Kirsten less than six months after Truett was born. (Which was also why I was really keeping my fingers crossed during the recent pregnancy scare. I love them kids, but one at a time please.)
I mumbled something punny about “Dad’s the reason why” and headed off to the pantry pretending to make a drink -without my cup. Drats.
But there was no escaping the paparazzi and 2 days later I got a message on MSN.
“Read your article, good job dude. “
“Uh, yeah. Thanks. What the heck were you buying a woman’s magazine for anyway?”
“I clicked through a link on Asiaone.com, man. I thought it was about handjobs or something.”
By the mountains of Kilimanjaro, the story was online, on a major news site nonetheless. And totally searchable on Google if you key in the right words. Heck, we should have charged loading fees.
And if the camel’s back wasn’t broken (is there a gay joke in here somewhere?) he was truly, completely severed into two when my mother started dishing out very descriptive advice on family planning and the host of contraceptives out there. Apparently she read the article too.
Note to all mothers, do your children a favour – avoid any description, not matter how matter-of-fact your execution is, avoid ANY description that conjure mental images of you getting it on with Dad. Just don’t do it. Please.
Well the fact is we’ve been bumping into people on the streets, shopping centres, parks that have been reading Mother, Inc. While no doubt Daphne can work the prose as a kickass writer, I wasn’t getting quite comfortable with the meet-and-greet thing. So, this will sound totally idiotic since we’re evidently not celebrities or anything but I’ve been feeling like I can’t even “let it rip” in public. I’m just afraid people may be like, “hey you saw the guy that just farted, he’s actually the husband of Daphne from Mother, Inc. You know that blog with all that stuff about handjobs and getting it on.”
Sex does sell though (there, you’ve got the context of the interview) and given the rising divorce rates in Singapore, I suppose there’s no nobler cause than towards the building of strong marriages through some smokin’ hot sexytime.
You can quote me on that, thankyouverymuch.
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