It's a new year, and it's a new daughter-in-law for me and wife. No, I'm not replacing my daughter-in-law with a new daughter-in-law for the new year. Nobody does that as far as I know. People change or replace oil filters, but not daughters-in-law. Calm down, Azalia.
Actually we've just been blessed with another daughter-in-law when my younger boy married the only girl of his dreams (I don't think he had other girls or other dreams). His first morning at kindergarten seems to me like this morning. And how he quickly progressed by learning all the cranky wrestlers' names and fake moves. Time flew and who knew. His wife, Siti Sarah, is our new daughter-in-law. "New" here is strictly contextual and technical: she's new to us and we're new to her. That's all to it. Azalia, our first daughter-in-law, has been with us for slightly over a year now. So by all industry standards, she's no longer new to us, but she's not old, please. We're no longer new to her and we're, well, plain old. Semantics can be chaotic, sorry.
With two daughters-in-law now, I've become father-in-law twice. Two titles in two years, I'm luckier than Liverpool. But I'm still called father-in-law, because there's no English or Malay or Kelantanese term for somebody with two or many or too many daughters-in-law. There are thousands of living and dying languages in the world today and I'm sure there's one or two that make this important distinction. Or maybe it's not important. I mean it's not important and not urgent to differentiate or discriminate people based on the number of daughters-in-law. So there's no real need for any word or terminology for it. There's no medical breakthrough linking somebody's sugar content or arthritis to the incidence of daughters-in-law in his vicinity. This is why it's still unlawful for any desperate insurance company (meaning all insurance companies) to load up more premium on anyone with multiple daughters-in-law.
Whatever it is, I must say that this time around I'm better prepared. To be honest, there's nothing much to prepare. Nothing in the sense of having to conceive a clever transformation program or a five-year plan. If you're a colourless and redundant retiree, there's absolutely nothing to prepare. Just remain colourless and redundant. Your cholesterol and calcium would stay safe. Your daughter-in-law might even choose part of your name for her secure password. That's it. You're in seventh heaven.
Maybe not. Because there's nothing to profit from the status quo and ceteris paribus (what?). I still think daughters-in-laws in this day and age are a precious learning opportunity. Deeply literate and fiercely independent, they epitomize most of the newfound ideas and wisdom. You know, complex beliefs like "bigger burger is better burger". Or simple ones like "Wayne Rooney is either a born moron or born a moron" (my idea, but what the hell). You'll fall for their their fancy English and faux Malay. And they don't write the (archaic) way we write. They don't write, actually. It's just LOL, LMAO, he he, @$%# and all the wordless counterculture. Obviously there's so much for us to engage, learn and achieve here. It's easier for mothers-in-law to get on because they rule the kitchen. All daughters-in-law, new or not new, know well enough not to upset the foodchain. But a father-in-law is a pointless afterthought, just like the oil filter. He needs the extra guile and craft to get in the groove. But, who'd really know, with time and some luck "Di Ambang Sore" might find its way into his daughter-in-law's playlists. LOL.
Actually we've just been blessed with another daughter-in-law when my younger boy married the only girl of his dreams (I don't think he had other girls or other dreams). His first morning at kindergarten seems to me like this morning. And how he quickly progressed by learning all the cranky wrestlers' names and fake moves. Time flew and who knew. His wife, Siti Sarah, is our new daughter-in-law. "New" here is strictly contextual and technical: she's new to us and we're new to her. That's all to it. Azalia, our first daughter-in-law, has been with us for slightly over a year now. So by all industry standards, she's no longer new to us, but she's not old, please. We're no longer new to her and we're, well, plain old. Semantics can be chaotic, sorry.
With two daughters-in-law now, I've become father-in-law twice. Two titles in two years, I'm luckier than Liverpool. But I'm still called father-in-law, because there's no English or Malay or Kelantanese term for somebody with two or many or too many daughters-in-law. There are thousands of living and dying languages in the world today and I'm sure there's one or two that make this important distinction. Or maybe it's not important. I mean it's not important and not urgent to differentiate or discriminate people based on the number of daughters-in-law. So there's no real need for any word or terminology for it. There's no medical breakthrough linking somebody's sugar content or arthritis to the incidence of daughters-in-law in his vicinity. This is why it's still unlawful for any desperate insurance company (meaning all insurance companies) to load up more premium on anyone with multiple daughters-in-law.
Whatever it is, I must say that this time around I'm better prepared. To be honest, there's nothing much to prepare. Nothing in the sense of having to conceive a clever transformation program or a five-year plan. If you're a colourless and redundant retiree, there's absolutely nothing to prepare. Just remain colourless and redundant. Your cholesterol and calcium would stay safe. Your daughter-in-law might even choose part of your name for her secure password. That's it. You're in seventh heaven.
Maybe not. Because there's nothing to profit from the status quo and ceteris paribus (what?). I still think daughters-in-laws in this day and age are a precious learning opportunity. Deeply literate and fiercely independent, they epitomize most of the newfound ideas and wisdom. You know, complex beliefs like "bigger burger is better burger". Or simple ones like "Wayne Rooney is either a born moron or born a moron" (my idea, but what the hell). You'll fall for their their fancy English and faux Malay. And they don't write the (archaic) way we write. They don't write, actually. It's just LOL, LMAO, he he, @$%# and all the wordless counterculture. Obviously there's so much for us to engage, learn and achieve here. It's easier for mothers-in-law to get on because they rule the kitchen. All daughters-in-law, new or not new, know well enough not to upset the foodchain. But a father-in-law is a pointless afterthought, just like the oil filter. He needs the extra guile and craft to get in the groove. But, who'd really know, with time and some luck "Di Ambang Sore" might find its way into his daughter-in-law's playlists. LOL.
