Good Friday is a holiday in Singapore, but I had an 8am phone call, so my holiday didn’t really start until 9 o’clock, when I took the girls to get pancakes while my wife fled to get a few minutes alone with a cup of coffee. The children were well behaved while we were putting food into them, but thereafter screamed and yelled at us, until I took Destroyer off to the National Gallery, via the climbing wall (to pick up chalk for my wife) and my office (to pick up my laptop).
She remained copacetic throughout this last chance thrill ride, although part of that was because she was sat on my shoulders the whole time. This is convenient as I can drink a cup of coffee without her running off, but it is rather wearing.
At the National Gallery there was a fun room that was basically filled with piles of old cushions, and then I took Destroyer to the modern art exhibit, which was
- a pile of crockwry
- some old coats
- a badly shot film with moody violin soundtrack
- and a bunch of pictures of people having sex
So then we got the bus home. All the way to the gallery Destroyer had been insistent that there were dinosaurs at the gallery, but she didn’t seem too disappointed.
However, with the lack of sleep, nerves frayed and she started screaming at me shortly before we got home. In fact both kids seemed to spend the best part of five hours yelling at us about one thing or another. It rained so we couldn’t go out and they yelled. It stopped raining and we went outside and they yelled. We tried to get them to have a bath and they yelled and yelled and yelled.
My wife drew the short straw and put then down. I took the opportunity to go ride my old bike and made a few more discoveries:
- I hadn’t put the handlebar on straight, so when the bars were straight the wheel was off centre by about 10°
- not to worry though, because when I assembled my bike, I hadn’t tightened up the stem bolts at all. They weren’t even finger tight. So it’s good that I had to tighten them
- after ten years, I’ve forgotten how to bunnyhop. Or I never knew before. Or the top tube on my bike is too long. Or there’s something else wrong with me
- similarly, taking the bike off a curb is a terrifying experience; it’s not a chuckable little hardtail like I remembered, or, perhaps more likely, I had the muscle to throw it around ten years ago and trying that out in a car park in the dark after a decade isn’t going to be so much fun
- on the positive side, it’s a nice, light bike and it responds well to stamping on the pedals. Certainly a lot more fun than your average two ton hire bike
I came home, drank a beer, started watching Pacific Rim. Basically, those children broke me today and I’m fighting to get back.