I came home half an hour ago to find both Mum and Dad talking on the phone. No, not to each other. I guess it's a rare sight that doesn't really have a significance to its rarity. But it did evoke some interesting memories.
When I was young, I enjoyed indulging in pranks to the fullest extent, as some of you would know. I think it was probably a way of getting the attention, and to some extent, the recognition that I needed, being the only child. Perhaps it was to waive off the loneliness. Naturally, my parents were constant (and patronising) victims. And unlike how I was able to formulate more intricate and tactical stunts in church with the help of accomplices including Duck I and Duck II, the home hoaxes were more of solo, espionage kind of missions. They were all exciting in their own ways.
So one of my favourite pranks was this - I would call Mum and tell her, "Mummy, Daddy's looking for you!" Then I would go to Dad and tell him, "Daddy, Mummy's looking for you!" I would then hide behind a small niche in the wall next to the living room, and observe the comedy unfold. It was very entertaining, and I don't think I ever got sick of that prank. It had to be done periodically though, because I saw that it could get quite irritating. Interestingly, it seems that I was pragmatic enough to think about how to maximise fun-profit by minimising the chances of getting a rap over the knuckles, which was not really fun. I still earned a fair amount of chiding though. Sigh, I think I miss the Paddy in me.
I was also reminded of this, which I must know inside out by the 25th, amongst 23 other extracts across 2 plays, 1 novel plus 5 more poems. This is an examinable conversation. No laughing matter.
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