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| Friday, March 03, 2006 |
| oh how my parents love me. |
Yah right.
"Boy (yes my dad calls me boy) come here. I wanna talk to you"
"yah pa?"
*long boring conversation about finances and flight and accomodation arrangements commence*
"How long is your flight to Canada?"
"uhm... website said about 30 hours"
"30 hours?"
"yah pa, 30 hours"
"hm... don't come back lah k"
"huh? what do you mean"
"I mean don't come back until after you're done"
*speechless*
"what...? Then what about the long summer holidays and all that?"
"No point for you to come back. Just stay there for the whole 2 years. Don't waste time and money coming back. Go work in a hospital in the states or something."
"Then what about after I graduate? Do I come back then?"
"hmmm... that one see how lah. We decide then"
"..."
If speechlessness could be expressed in words (then it can't be called speechless, now can it?) I would express it in giant font-72 caps, bold-ed and italic-ed.
Oh how they love me. I think my dad sees me as a long term investment for his retirement, cunning finacial planner that he is.
I think something like this goes on in his accounting-minded head.
[pay for son to do medicine + pay for usmle] - money - flight ticket back home during holidays = force him to work in hospitals overseas
work in overseas hospitals x son's innate social skills = connections with overseas surgeons.
connections with overseas surgeons = ease of surgery posting + [son's desperation to earn money x son's inability to afford more than one meal a week]2 = graduate as surgeon faster
graduate as surgeon faster = higher pay + son's filial piety = better retirement for me (QED)
(Remember to apply the BODMAS rule)
At this point he throws his head back in evil maniacal laughter and lightning bolts flash in the background accompanied by eerie organ music. |
posted by theycallmecruel @ 8:27 PM  |
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wheeeeeeeeeee
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