18 years ago to this day, a boy was born, yelping (or rather more aptly speaking screaming) as the doctor shook the little soul to make it breathe. I guess he shook the boy a bit too much, for his cranium was abnormally big. Or, rather, it was because his head was so big that his mum had to have a caesarean. Whatever. Obviously since the doctor was slightly gender confused his parents had expected for the past month that a pretty girl would be born, and, naturally, had prepared some pretty pinkish clothing to suit. When they found out much to their dismay/delight/confusion that it was actually a boy that was born, they told themselves that they shouldn't recommend the doctor to any other family, which was precisely what they did after the child was safe back home.

Unfortunately as the years went by the parents thought it might have been actually better if the doctor had taken the pains to shake the boy a bit more, for it took a while to shake some sense into the toddler who had fun spilling the laundry detergent and make little funny doodles on the rec(wreck)-room floor. Indeed, the boy seemed to have a knack for breaking things, and it exasperated the parents, because they realised it was no longer worth buying good stuff for the kid if it got broken soon anyways. But asides from being a hyperactive child who lost a lot of things, things seemed to go relatively well at school and at home.

Well, lacking the time and the will to write any longer, I shall update my (half-fiction) life story whenever I have the time.

Written on Tuesday, October 5 at 7:03 PM