Last Time Small

I can safely say that I had a great childhood. This means that I was a major headache to my poor hapless and beleaguered parents, who, I am sure, were at their wits end, not knowing what to do with me.

I won’t tell you all my little secrets, there are some I intend to keep to myself. But here’s one tale I will share with you.

I was eight years old, a short and skinny lad. Even then I was nuts about football. I would play football before classes start. I would play football during recess. I would play during Pendidikan Jasmani. I would even play after classes whilst waiting for my parents to pick me up from school.

My parents complained constantly often about the godawful pong that followed me around. Apparently, sweat and ditch water does not smell remotely like Estee Lauder Pleasures. In fact, I smelled like a rotting carcass.

Due to poor drainage, my school padang was constantly flooded with sewage water. My classmates and I would happily (trans: stupidly) scamper around the pitch covered with six inches of noisome water. Attempting to kick the ball would create a spray that drenched everyone within a six foot radius. It was great fun. One word of advice though. Remember to keep your mouth closed should you wish to try longkang water football.

I remember getting kicked on my shin once. The resultant cut plus exposure to the sewage water gave me huge weeping sores that were so badly infected I had to get a penicillin shot.

Anyway, one fine day, Kim Yen (Darjah 3 Merah’s unofficial football captain) organised a friendly with another class during recess.

We were really excited about the game.

At the sound of the recess bell, we rushed onto the pitch. We stood in a line waiting expectantly for Kim Yen to choose his team. Kim Yen strutted onto the pitch. Predictably, he picked his close friends. And sadly, I was not one of them.

I shrugged. Supersub also can lah.

The rejects and I trudged sadly to the sidelines. We sat under the tree and watched the game.

We lost. And I did not get to play.

As we were walking back to classes at the end of recess, I tapped Kim Yen on the shoulder.

“Eh, why didn’t you let me play today?”

Kim Yen looked down at me (he was taller then) and sneered at me. “That’s because you suck. I will never pick you.”

Something in me snapped.

I hit him. Hard. On his head. With my blue plastic Transfomer tupperware. And it’s got a picture of Optimus Prime on it.

“Owww,” he yelped. He stared at me and turned to walk away.

I thought that was the end of the matter. Boy was I wrong.

I got the whoopass of my life as I got home from my dad. Kim Yen’s mother complained to my mum. Apparently, my assault on Kim Yen left him dizzy and nauseous, and in need of medical attention.

I nearly died man, that day.

The next morning, the headmaster summoned us into his room. He faked kau me and threatened to expel me. He asked me what I hit Kim Yen with.

“My tupperware,” I meekly muttered.

“Bring it to me.”

I hurried to my classroom and picked up the offending weapon. I ran back to my headmaster fearing the worst.

As soon as my headmaster laid eyes on the tupperware, he smiled. He picked it up and started squeezing it. To my amazement, he started bonking his head with my tupperware.

Bonk, bonk, bonk.

Bonk some more.

“Hmmm, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. My headmaster turned his head slowly around and stared at me with his serious deep eyes.

Suddenly, he jerked his head and faced Kim Yen.

“This doesn’t hurt at all! You are really lembik. Just don’t let this sort of thing happen again.”

He smiled and shooed us out of his room. After this incident, Kim Yen and I became much better friends.

The End.

PS: This is Din‘s fault. Go scold him. I will be MIA this entire weekend. Dontch kacau me, got important project to do.