Ken 1Divorce from a little kid’s perspective
April 24th 2008 08:48
PS: If any of my family members reads this, yes this is an honest piece but I'm totally NOT depressed or anything. This is all fun and worth of laugh! I will roll my eyes if any of you took this and me seriously.
“Kenneth, did your mama have plastic surgery done to her face yesterday?” asked my third year teacher, in front of fifty other students in the class. My jaw bungee-jumped onto my desk.
“I swear to God she has morphed,” he continued.
I could not believe that brutal naiveness coming out of his mouth. I mean he was the most rigid teacher there. When he clapped, he resembled a toy monkey that bangs its cymbals on its hands perfectly horizontally. All the other precious kids were laughing (at me). Oh my heck!
So, my parents divorced when I was five, and each remarried approximately three years later. Since then, my brother and I would be living in our father’s house one week and our mother’s the next because neither side wanted to fight for the custody of us. They believed being someone’s parent is not a right. It is a gift. God knows how they dealt with the court or maybe they didn't at all. So, every semester my mom and stepmom would take turns in getting my report cards.
You would think that teacher was a douche bag to be that extremely insensitive. Frankly, I thought he was way too kind. My stepmom was slimmer, shorter, and whiter. He could have been more brutal by pointing out whether my mom also had liposuction, got her knees done, and ‘de-tanned’ herself in Antartica.
My parents’ divorce was like a Hotmail password. No way I was going to share it with anyone. Each time I was confronted about it, I would just stare down and say nothing.
============================= =============================
That secret, however, did not last long at all. One of my classmates literally circled around the school and informed everyone about it. She apparently knew it from her mother, who too was known as the disseminator of gossips in our neighbourhood. A fruit indeed does not fall far from its tree, especially when that fruit is overweight. She was one of those girls who rolled out of bed every morning, threw a dumpy t-shirt on, and did not think twice before stuffing a cheeseburger in her mouth. I reckon the fact that all her family members were physically ‘prosperous” gave her enough fire to put my family and me down in front of everyone at school.
She made me wished I could have done something during my parents’ final showdown back in 1988, since I was a first hand witness there. (Sadly) I wasn't necessarily worried about them getting separated, but more on putting up with the school kids who knew about this.
============================= =============================
After 6 years being a fleeting transient, finally there came the time where my parents realised that I was too fragile emotionally to migrate every week. I was given the choice who to go with. It was extremely difficult. I actually liked them for different reasons.
My mom was, still is, an entertaining nut case. On paper she looked like any average mom but when put behind the wheel, her Al Capone spirit emerged, and Donna Summer and Madonna on the car stereo. Of course she never forgot to fasten my seatbelt or held my chest with her hand whenever she pressed the brake.
My dad was also, unfortunately still is, a lunatic driver. This makes me inclined to believe my parents actually met each other through a car crash rather than romantically. I still have no idea why the wanted to end up with each other. I guess dad's sense of humour, but there are still unsolved puzzles. I dont know. But they both are handsome, so I better stop bitching.
============================= =============================
Eventually, I ended up living with my dad. It was not that I thought less of my mother. Just at the time, my dad’s house was much cleaner, pretty much like Monk’s apartment.
In the end, having divorced parents isn't necessarily a bad ending. It made me two times richer than the average kid. I received allowances from both sides. My future children will be a lot luckier, getting financially pampered at least by three pair of grandparents.
“Kenneth, did your mama have plastic surgery done to her face yesterday?” asked my third year teacher, in front of fifty other students in the class. My jaw bungee-jumped onto my desk.
“I swear to God she has morphed,” he continued.
I could not believe that brutal naiveness coming out of his mouth. I mean he was the most rigid teacher there. When he clapped, he resembled a toy monkey that bangs its cymbals on its hands perfectly horizontally. All the other precious kids were laughing (at me). Oh my heck!
So, my parents divorced when I was five, and each remarried approximately three years later. Since then, my brother and I would be living in our father’s house one week and our mother’s the next because neither side wanted to fight for the custody of us. They believed being someone’s parent is not a right. It is a gift. God knows how they dealt with the court or maybe they didn't at all. So, every semester my mom and stepmom would take turns in getting my report cards.
You would think that teacher was a douche bag to be that extremely insensitive. Frankly, I thought he was way too kind. My stepmom was slimmer, shorter, and whiter. He could have been more brutal by pointing out whether my mom also had liposuction, got her knees done, and ‘de-tanned’ herself in Antartica.
My parents’ divorce was like a Hotmail password. No way I was going to share it with anyone. Each time I was confronted about it, I would just stare down and say nothing.
============================= =============================
That secret, however, did not last long at all. One of my classmates literally circled around the school and informed everyone about it. She apparently knew it from her mother, who too was known as the disseminator of gossips in our neighbourhood. A fruit indeed does not fall far from its tree, especially when that fruit is overweight. She was one of those girls who rolled out of bed every morning, threw a dumpy t-shirt on, and did not think twice before stuffing a cheeseburger in her mouth. I reckon the fact that all her family members were physically ‘prosperous” gave her enough fire to put my family and me down in front of everyone at school.
She made me wished I could have done something during my parents’ final showdown back in 1988, since I was a first hand witness there. (Sadly) I wasn't necessarily worried about them getting separated, but more on putting up with the school kids who knew about this.
============================= =============================
After 6 years being a fleeting transient, finally there came the time where my parents realised that I was too fragile emotionally to migrate every week. I was given the choice who to go with. It was extremely difficult. I actually liked them for different reasons.
My mom was, still is, an entertaining nut case. On paper she looked like any average mom but when put behind the wheel, her Al Capone spirit emerged, and Donna Summer and Madonna on the car stereo. Of course she never forgot to fasten my seatbelt or held my chest with her hand whenever she pressed the brake.
My dad was also, unfortunately still is, a lunatic driver. This makes me inclined to believe my parents actually met each other through a car crash rather than romantically. I still have no idea why the wanted to end up with each other. I guess dad's sense of humour, but there are still unsolved puzzles. I dont know. But they both are handsome, so I better stop bitching.
============================= =============================
Eventually, I ended up living with my dad. It was not that I thought less of my mother. Just at the time, my dad’s house was much cleaner, pretty much like Monk’s apartment.
In the end, having divorced parents isn't necessarily a bad ending. It made me two times richer than the average kid. I received allowances from both sides. My future children will be a lot luckier, getting financially pampered at least by three pair of grandparents.
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