The Eightblack Family Holiday...
Aug 3, 2011, 3:47 am
#46
Join Date: Aug 2007
Programs: QF LTG:
Posts: 1,859
T
The "journey" just to the gate nearly tips me right over. Thankfully the flight isn't packed - probably around two-thirds full. The kids and wife are in one row of 3 and I am across the aisle. The small Airbus is populated with a lot of Filipino workers, all going home for their holidays. Or balding, overweight Caucasian men, who are trying to recover from their third divorce and are seeking solace in the arms of a twenty something Asian female.
My son leans across the aisle and says.
"Dad, why are there a lot of men Grandpas age with a lot of younger girls?"
"Umm. Ask your mother" I respond
Before The Boss could answer, he continues.
"And why are they holding hands. Thats disgusting. Is that her father?"
"Son, this is Asia. Thats what people do. They're friendly"
The "journey" just to the gate nearly tips me right over. Thankfully the flight isn't packed - probably around two-thirds full. The kids and wife are in one row of 3 and I am across the aisle. The small Airbus is populated with a lot of Filipino workers, all going home for their holidays. Or balding, overweight Caucasian men, who are trying to recover from their third divorce and are seeking solace in the arms of a twenty something Asian female.
My son leans across the aisle and says.
"Dad, why are there a lot of men Grandpas age with a lot of younger girls?"
"Umm. Ask your mother" I respond
Before The Boss could answer, he continues.
"And why are they holding hands. Thats disgusting. Is that her father?"
"Son, this is Asia. Thats what people do. They're friendly"
A simple, they respect their elders and look after them in their dotage. This is how I expect to be looked after when I am old. 
Hey I said I wasn't a parent but it is the best I can come up with. Oh and your TRs are actually the best contraceptive I have come across in a long time.
This is hilarious and I am looking forward to the rest of this TR. See you at the SIN DO next year.
Aug 3, 2011, 9:59 am
#47
Join Date: May 2011
Location: Gent, Belgium
Programs: Miles & Bonus *S
Posts: 448
Grrr, my internet broke down twice while reading this brilliant TR. Why does this always happen during interesting things? Anyway, can't wait wait for the next part.
PS: I was just wondering (after reading the TR so far) how your children would react when they would fly Ryanair
PS: I was just wondering (after reading the TR so far) how your children would react when they would fly Ryanair
Aug 3, 2011, 3:02 pm
#50
Join Date: Jul 2004
Location: London, United Kingdom
Programs: OW/AA, DL, UA; Marriott Titanium
Posts: 4,936
Aug 4, 2011, 1:16 am
#53
Moderator, Trip Reports
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2009
Location: Denver, CO
Programs: UA GS-2MM, Marriott Ambassador
Posts: 3,715
If you scroll up a bit to the map of Boracay, you'll see that where we stayed was near Station 1. Sort of at one end of the beach. The action or the busy part of the island was near Station 2. I have no idea what happened at Station 3. My wife apparently heard that drunk Germans were running around impregnating people. A lot. So I was never allowed near the place. Pity really.
Anyway.
The first thing that hits you about Boracay is that the place is built for tourism. It all looks innocent enough when you first arrive, and the overwhelming sense of beauty and the magnificent beach and crystal clear waters temporarily robs you of your economic common sense. It does not help that you have beside you the most efficient, lethal and above all ruthless commercial predators known to man.
Your own children. The ones that you made. The ones that can extract every cent out of your wallet, credit card and bank account in the blink of an eye.
My children could give a class to other kids. Actually, the son is somewhat reasonable. And if I'm honest, he's actually very grateful when you do buy him something. My daughter, The Small One, is another matter altogether.
Let me share with you my philosophy on children. Its very simple. And I promise it wont take too long. It goes something like this.
Boys are simple creatures. You feed them. Water them. And exercise them. As they get older, the pattern doesn't change, except for the fact that the definition of exercise to a 10-year old boy is playing soccer all day whereas to an 18-year old male, the definition of exercise involves a cute cheerleader called "Ally", a bottle of Vodka and her parents being in the Hamptons for the weekend.
Or something like this.
Boys, no matter what age, cannot multi-task. They can process only one thing at once. You cant say to a 10-year old "go take a shower, brush your teeth and feed the cat". His poor little brain will collapse with exhaustion with a burden such as this. You'll be lucky if he even makes it to the bathroom at all.
"I thought you were having a shower" I would say to my son
"I was"
"Then why are you naked in the living room?"
"Because I had to go the bathroom"
"And"
"Well, I'm still a little traumatized by what happened in there so I thought I would come out here and play my PS3"
"Do you not think it might be a good idea to get dressed?
"nope"
"why not?"
"too busy doing this now"
Or something like that.
But daughters. They are built by the The Devil himself. Not only can they multi-task up the wazoo with the precision of a surgeon, they can extract the marrow from your bones before you will even know what hit you. My wife says that my daughter has me wrapped around her little finger.
But is more like she is a Boa Constrictor. Forget the little finger. She gets you in a whole body hold. I get panic attacks just thinking about it. And talk about persistent.
"Dad, can I buy puppy"
"No we don't have room"
"And besides, we bought you hamsters and that didn't turn out so well, did it" I remind her.
"But that was different"
"Why?"
"Because it was"
"Mum said it was your fault they fell down the garbage chute"
"No it wasn't"
"But I really want a puppy"
"Why?"
"Because I do. And besides, Kayla has one"
"Well they live in a house. And we live in an apartment"
"I promise to take care of it"
"No, we're not getting a puppy"
"But I already thought of a name"
This "conversation" would go on for 15-minutes. Just when I thought she had given up, she would then start on her mother. Collude more like it.
You see, she had already "done the deal" with my wife, the puppy was already in a crate out in the hall and they were just toying with me all along.
When I first found out that we were having a daughter, I went out and bought a Remington 12-gauge tactical entry shotgun. And a large shovel. It was my thinking that when an unwashed miscreant would arrive at the door, wanting to take my child "out", I would simply stand there with both implements. In the nude.
Now, after 8-years of putting up with The Small One, I have changed my mind. The first semi-intelligent, skinny looking pathetic excuse of a male who knocks on the door will be met by the following.
"Hello, I'm here to take The Small One out"
"Thank God you're here" I am going to shout
"I bet you $500 you'll be back in 20-minutes. In fact, make it an hour and I'll give you a grand"
I pity the poor boy who does end up dating my daughter. I'm going to make them sign a waiver that releases me of all costs associated with future therapy or counseling sessions.
Damn. Where were we?
Right, the beach. At Boracay. Sorry. We decided to head off to "DMall". I don't know why, but everytime I saw the sign, or directions, or the name "DMall" I kept thinking of that vertically challenged guy off that TV show "Fantasy Island" who shouts "Da Plane, Da Plane". You know, the one you would just love to shoot out of a canon. God, what was his name? That's it - "Tattoo". I knew it would come to me.
The beachfront walk is littered with bars, restaurants, surf and diving shops and all matter of cafes and eateries. It has a wonderful atmosphere about it during the day. And an even better one at night. At first the kids thought it was a hoot. Spruikers and Hawkers would rush up to us, salivating like Pavlovs dog, wanting us to buy their cheap sunglasses, watches, hats and all matter of crap that was made somewhere between Shenzen and Ningbo.
Within minutes, my son had 3 pairs of sunglasses, my daughter had some sort of cheap necklace and a hat and my wife decided to buy 14 pairs of shoes. We looked like the Griswalds.
Then the "heavies" came out to play. The guys who rent the jet-skis, the sailboats, the para-gliding, the fishing trips etc etc. They have these little printed, laminated brochures and they plead with you to book something. "I make special price, just for today", they say.
I love all things motorized, so renting jet-skis wasn't a hard sell. To me at least.
The funny thing is this. When you first take a stroll down the boardwalk, you think, geez, there must be millions of jetski operators, boat hire places, fishing charter companies and the like. But after a few days of being exposed to this parlor trick, you work it out. There are exactly 2 companies. Probably run by the same family.
When we did book the jetskis, a van came to collect us. They then took as by high-speed boat to a pontoon out in the bay a little way. You'd see all these feeder boats bringing people to the mother ship - with everyone thinking "what the hell is going on here?"
And everyone is on the take. The guy at the restaurant who tells you "my cousin owns the jetskis, he'll look after you" to the tricycle driver who gives you a discount card, to the barman who tells you his cousins brothers slightly retarded nephew also runs a jetski hire place and has the best machines on the island.
But in the end, the locals trump the tourists. As they should.
The best part about it was that the person keeping the time for our jetski hire either fell asleep or got into a heated argument with someone because it was the longest 30-minutes of my life. I started to lose the will to live. Mostly because my son was at the helm of the thing and I was sitting behind him. He said, "Dad, you do the steering and I'll take care of the throttle". Which was a mistake.
The child only knows 2 speeds. Flat out. Or stop.
My blood curdling screams only egged him on. He said stop being a baby. At one point, I might have even started to cry…
Thankfully, the supervisor at the rental place eventually woke up and gave us a lazy wave to come on back. When we were ready. As we made our way back to the hotel, we mistakenly asked the kids what they wanted to do next.
"Fishing" came the reply. Easy enough, I thought. So off we went to haggle for a fishing trip. It ended up being the highlight of the holiday. But give me a minute. I need to gather my thoughts. And the courage to tell you the rest.
Anyway.
The first thing that hits you about Boracay is that the place is built for tourism. It all looks innocent enough when you first arrive, and the overwhelming sense of beauty and the magnificent beach and crystal clear waters temporarily robs you of your economic common sense. It does not help that you have beside you the most efficient, lethal and above all ruthless commercial predators known to man.
Your own children. The ones that you made. The ones that can extract every cent out of your wallet, credit card and bank account in the blink of an eye.
My children could give a class to other kids. Actually, the son is somewhat reasonable. And if I'm honest, he's actually very grateful when you do buy him something. My daughter, The Small One, is another matter altogether.
Let me share with you my philosophy on children. Its very simple. And I promise it wont take too long. It goes something like this.
Boys are simple creatures. You feed them. Water them. And exercise them. As they get older, the pattern doesn't change, except for the fact that the definition of exercise to a 10-year old boy is playing soccer all day whereas to an 18-year old male, the definition of exercise involves a cute cheerleader called "Ally", a bottle of Vodka and her parents being in the Hamptons for the weekend.
Or something like this.
Boys, no matter what age, cannot multi-task. They can process only one thing at once. You cant say to a 10-year old "go take a shower, brush your teeth and feed the cat". His poor little brain will collapse with exhaustion with a burden such as this. You'll be lucky if he even makes it to the bathroom at all.
"I thought you were having a shower" I would say to my son
"I was"
"Then why are you naked in the living room?"
"Because I had to go the bathroom"
"And"
"Well, I'm still a little traumatized by what happened in there so I thought I would come out here and play my PS3"
"Do you not think it might be a good idea to get dressed?
"nope"
"why not?"
"too busy doing this now"
Or something like that.
But daughters. They are built by the The Devil himself. Not only can they multi-task up the wazoo with the precision of a surgeon, they can extract the marrow from your bones before you will even know what hit you. My wife says that my daughter has me wrapped around her little finger.
But is more like she is a Boa Constrictor. Forget the little finger. She gets you in a whole body hold. I get panic attacks just thinking about it. And talk about persistent.
"Dad, can I buy puppy"
"No we don't have room"
"And besides, we bought you hamsters and that didn't turn out so well, did it" I remind her.
"But that was different"
"Why?"
"Because it was"
"Mum said it was your fault they fell down the garbage chute"
"No it wasn't"
"But I really want a puppy"
"Why?"
"Because I do. And besides, Kayla has one"
"Well they live in a house. And we live in an apartment"
"I promise to take care of it"
"No, we're not getting a puppy"
"But I already thought of a name"
This "conversation" would go on for 15-minutes. Just when I thought she had given up, she would then start on her mother. Collude more like it.
You see, she had already "done the deal" with my wife, the puppy was already in a crate out in the hall and they were just toying with me all along.
When I first found out that we were having a daughter, I went out and bought a Remington 12-gauge tactical entry shotgun. And a large shovel. It was my thinking that when an unwashed miscreant would arrive at the door, wanting to take my child "out", I would simply stand there with both implements. In the nude.
Now, after 8-years of putting up with The Small One, I have changed my mind. The first semi-intelligent, skinny looking pathetic excuse of a male who knocks on the door will be met by the following.
"Hello, I'm here to take The Small One out"
"Thank God you're here" I am going to shout
"I bet you $500 you'll be back in 20-minutes. In fact, make it an hour and I'll give you a grand"
I pity the poor boy who does end up dating my daughter. I'm going to make them sign a waiver that releases me of all costs associated with future therapy or counseling sessions.
Damn. Where were we?
Right, the beach. At Boracay. Sorry. We decided to head off to "DMall". I don't know why, but everytime I saw the sign, or directions, or the name "DMall" I kept thinking of that vertically challenged guy off that TV show "Fantasy Island" who shouts "Da Plane, Da Plane". You know, the one you would just love to shoot out of a canon. God, what was his name? That's it - "Tattoo". I knew it would come to me.
The beachfront walk is littered with bars, restaurants, surf and diving shops and all matter of cafes and eateries. It has a wonderful atmosphere about it during the day. And an even better one at night. At first the kids thought it was a hoot. Spruikers and Hawkers would rush up to us, salivating like Pavlovs dog, wanting us to buy their cheap sunglasses, watches, hats and all matter of crap that was made somewhere between Shenzen and Ningbo.
Within minutes, my son had 3 pairs of sunglasses, my daughter had some sort of cheap necklace and a hat and my wife decided to buy 14 pairs of shoes. We looked like the Griswalds.
Then the "heavies" came out to play. The guys who rent the jet-skis, the sailboats, the para-gliding, the fishing trips etc etc. They have these little printed, laminated brochures and they plead with you to book something. "I make special price, just for today", they say.
I love all things motorized, so renting jet-skis wasn't a hard sell. To me at least.
The funny thing is this. When you first take a stroll down the boardwalk, you think, geez, there must be millions of jetski operators, boat hire places, fishing charter companies and the like. But after a few days of being exposed to this parlor trick, you work it out. There are exactly 2 companies. Probably run by the same family.
When we did book the jetskis, a van came to collect us. They then took as by high-speed boat to a pontoon out in the bay a little way. You'd see all these feeder boats bringing people to the mother ship - with everyone thinking "what the hell is going on here?"
And everyone is on the take. The guy at the restaurant who tells you "my cousin owns the jetskis, he'll look after you" to the tricycle driver who gives you a discount card, to the barman who tells you his cousins brothers slightly retarded nephew also runs a jetski hire place and has the best machines on the island.
But in the end, the locals trump the tourists. As they should.
The best part about it was that the person keeping the time for our jetski hire either fell asleep or got into a heated argument with someone because it was the longest 30-minutes of my life. I started to lose the will to live. Mostly because my son was at the helm of the thing and I was sitting behind him. He said, "Dad, you do the steering and I'll take care of the throttle". Which was a mistake.
The child only knows 2 speeds. Flat out. Or stop.
My blood curdling screams only egged him on. He said stop being a baby. At one point, I might have even started to cry…
Thankfully, the supervisor at the rental place eventually woke up and gave us a lazy wave to come on back. When we were ready. As we made our way back to the hotel, we mistakenly asked the kids what they wanted to do next.
"Fishing" came the reply. Easy enough, I thought. So off we went to haggle for a fishing trip. It ended up being the highlight of the holiday. But give me a minute. I need to gather my thoughts. And the courage to tell you the rest.
Last edited by eightblack; Aug 4, 2011 at 4:38 am Reason: typo. as usual
Aug 4, 2011, 3:49 am
#55
Join Date: May 2011
Posts: 4
Boys, no matter what age, cannot multi-task. They can process only one thing at once. You cant say to a 10-year old "go take a shower, brush your teeth and feed the cat". His poor little brain will collapse with exhaustion with a burden such as this. You'll be lucky if he even makes it to the shower.
But daughters. They are built by the The Devil himself. Not only can they multi-task up the wazoo with the precision of a surgeon, they can extract the marrow from your bones before you will even know what hit you. My wife says that my daughter has me wrapped around her little finger.
When I first found out that we were having a daughter, I went out and bought a Remington 12-gauge tactical entry shotgun. And a large shovel. It was my thinking that when an unwashed miscreant would arrive at the door, wanting to take my child "out", I would simply stand there with both implements. In the nude.
Now, after 8-years of putting up with The Small One, I have changed my mind. The first semi-intelligent, skinny looking pathetic excuse of a male who knocks on the door will be met by the following.
"Hello, I'm here to take The Small One out"
"Thank God you're here" I am going to shout
"I bet you $500 you'll be back in 20-minutes. In fact, make it an hour and I'll give you a grand"
But daughters. They are built by the The Devil himself. Not only can they multi-task up the wazoo with the precision of a surgeon, they can extract the marrow from your bones before you will even know what hit you. My wife says that my daughter has me wrapped around her little finger.
When I first found out that we were having a daughter, I went out and bought a Remington 12-gauge tactical entry shotgun. And a large shovel. It was my thinking that when an unwashed miscreant would arrive at the door, wanting to take my child "out", I would simply stand there with both implements. In the nude.
Now, after 8-years of putting up with The Small One, I have changed my mind. The first semi-intelligent, skinny looking pathetic excuse of a male who knocks on the door will be met by the following.
"Hello, I'm here to take The Small One out"
"Thank God you're here" I am going to shout
"I bet you $500 you'll be back in 20-minutes. In fact, make it an hour and I'll give you a grand"
I only signed up at FT so I could subscribe to your trip reports. You have described my 7 year old son and 6 year old daughter perfectly. I am sitting here with tears of laughter streaming down my face, and my wife giving me "the look"
Aug 4, 2011, 8:22 am
#57
Ambassador, Hong Kong and Macau
Join Date: May 2009
Location: HKG
Programs: Non-top tier Asia Miles member
Posts: 19,795
"What in the name of all thats holy is going on here…?" he yells
"Where the effin hell is the IFE?"
My wife and I start to chuckle and whisper to him that low cost carriers, like the one we are on, don't fit in seat entertainment systems. Come to think of it, its a bit average if you ask me. I mean, they could charge basically what they want for entertainment as we are a captive audience at this point. Its not as if we can get off. And a parent is likely to pay whatever sized Kings ransom the airline would want in order to keep their child quiet for however long the flight is.
...They then activate Plan B and produce every electronic gadget you would expect. There is a reason Apples share price is in the stratosphere. They can thank desperate, ill-advised parents like me for one.
"Where the effin hell is the IFE?"
My wife and I start to chuckle and whisper to him that low cost carriers, like the one we are on, don't fit in seat entertainment systems. Come to think of it, its a bit average if you ask me. I mean, they could charge basically what they want for entertainment as we are a captive audience at this point. Its not as if we can get off. And a parent is likely to pay whatever sized Kings ransom the airline would want in order to keep their child quiet for however long the flight is.
...They then activate Plan B and produce every electronic gadget you would expect. There is a reason Apples share price is in the stratosphere. They can thank desperate, ill-advised parents like me for one.
What's with kids and IFEs? When I was their age I'd simply wedge my knees against the back of the seat in front and start reading a book. Yes I grew up to be a Chartered Accountant living in Chipping Norton.
Last trip from SYD to PER with my brother's kids...onbound trip was on a QF A330 and everything's fine. Way back was a 767 that I used to ride to school on when I was their age...
Yes they proceeded to crack out their iPods and iPads. But the batts didn't last the whole 4 hours back (esp since we waited in the airport for a bit). And there's no in-seat power. So they started beating the crap out of each other...
Which reminds me my parents and I have to fly them out from HKG (they'll be staying with us 1st) to Kota Kinabalu this Christmas. A MH 737-400 (where did they find this POS?) or a Dragonair A320. Mum decided to splash for J but it won't mean IFE or in-seat power either. I even contemplated routing to SIN to get IFE.
Aug 4, 2011, 12:30 pm
#59
FlyerTalk Evangelist
Join Date: Apr 2001
Location: Denver, CO
Programs: UA Silver, Bonvoy Gold, Hyatt Discoverist
Posts: 21,537
But daughters. They are built by the The Devil himself. Not only can they multi-task up the wazoo with the precision of a surgeon, they can extract the marrow from your bones before you will even know what hit you. My wife says that my daughter has me wrapped around her little finger.
But is more like she is a Boa Constrictor. Forget the little finger. She gets you in a whole body hold. I get panic attacks just thinking about it. And talk about persistent.
But is more like she is a Boa Constrictor. Forget the little finger. She gets you in a whole body hold. I get panic attacks just thinking about it. And talk about persistent.
