My relationship with my big man has been evolving, even now as we speak. One thing I can say is that it hasn't always been easy. My dad is one particular man, although not known for his patience or his negotiating skills because he's almost certain he's always right just as much as I've been trying to convince him that I'm not always wrong, there are a whole lot to admire from him.
For one, he does have the track record of keeping me alive, so he surely knows what he's doing. He's a protective father, the kind who would always think of his daughters as 15 year-old-kids who can't tell black from white, even though the daughters are now already in their twenties. Maybe by the time we're 40 and married, only then will he start treating us like adults.
Of course, his intention is noble, he wants to shelter us from the axes of evil as much as humanly possible. One way he ensures that we grow up to be nice and healthy kids is by subjecting us to such things as curvews and conducting thorough investigation of our male companions we brought home during school days.
So this is the same man, the same man who wouldn't even let me go to fetch a guy friend of mine from the airport, the same man who wouldn't let me be in the same hotel room with a guy friend for one second, who suddenly leaped happily of the idea of me going travelling overseas with a guy friend.
Huh?
I feel like he's been planning a wedding behind my back. It was so funny when I proposed the idea and he replied saying, "that's great! But Hong Kong? Not much going on there, why don't you ask him to bring you to Thailand or Vietnam?"
I needed to blink and see the screen once again to make sure I wasn't imagining things. Should I change the prescription of my glasses already?
As for now, I'm just excited. I meant to write excited, but I accidentally typed sexited. Ha! Ehem. Well. Honest mistake.
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