To the Days of Being Wild: Happy Father's Day

My dad’s first day in Primary 6, he was chided for saying good morning instead of good afternoon (afternoon session; he was in morning session previously). He stood up to try and apologise, pulling his chair back to make space. The teacher thought he wanted to throw the chair at him, and demanded he sit back down.

My dad never sat back down. He let go of the chair, bent down to pick up his bag, left the class and never went to school again.

He later went on to work in the Immgrations Checkpoint Authority (ICA) and got into their immigration special forces, hunting down illegal immigrants in the 50s-70s. He retired from ICA, mainly because they ran out of ideas on how to promote him based on his P6 education.

He has, I am sure, many more stories of youthful rebellion (you can read about another one in his ICA days here). Indeed, you would rarely hear of today’s boys (or men, come to think of it) going to such levels just to make a point, no matter how gung-ho they may be. I can only hope I am able to inspire my own children in the same way someday.

To the days of being wild and the days gone by, here’s to my dad. Happy Father’s Day, everyone!

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