On October 30, Feng and I were scrambling to find a Halloween costume for Mark. I had been sick all week and I didn’t have the chance to plan ahead. So while I was looking for last year’s pirate hat in the closet, Feng drove to Dollarama to buy a few accessories.
Monthly Archives: November, 2014
I’m not sure how many words there are in English, but after having a quick meeting with myself, we decided that whatever the magic number was, it was not enough. We need more words in our vocabulary. I said so.
I should invest and buy Starbucks shares. Or apply for a barista position. Either way, it’s time to get something out of my coffee shop addiction.
One of the first things I noticed in Canada is that North Americans seem to be much more sensitive to smell than Europeans. For instance, many workplaces have adopted a “scent-free policy” for environmental sensitivity and health reasons—apparently, people reported scents were causing issues such as headaches, dizziness or skin irritation.
So why are the Conservatives stalling the implementation of a proper daycare system? Because it’s easier to play the guilt card: it’s not right when “parents are forced to have other people raise their children”. Someone, please, explain the Conservatives that daycare services are not a fucking alien abduction.
The woman looks at Mark and me as if we were crazy. Yes, I have a kid who craves apples. The very same apples we have at home, the very same wedges he ate in the car when we picked him up from school an hour ago.
With Mark at school, I should be able to resume a normal 9-5 routine. Except I don’t have one.
If Chinese are overly polite, North Americans tend to be overly cheerful and easily excited. I grew up as a cynical French, so it felt very strange at first to be swaddled by so much eagerness and earnest niceness.
I’ve known my in-laws for 12 years now. It’s not a secret that I don’t like fruits. It’s not a big deal, really. And yet, every few weeks or so, depending how often I see them, they offer me fruits.
At home, we have two ways of dealing with sickness. Feng is ultra-careful and takes drugs whenever something hurts or something doesn’t feel right. If he could quarantine himself from the world, he would. On the other side, I pretend it doesn’t exist. No, I’m not coughing. No, I don’t have a fever. No, I’m not passed out in bed.
Filling out daycare application forms is a tough exercise. You’d think you’re applying for Harvard—although I strongly suspect the main admission factor is the cheque you have to write every month.
Yes, Mark is going to daycare. It’s about bloody time.