Dear Uncle

Dear Uncle,

I wonder if it ever struck you that despite your miniature stature, pathetic status, irresponsible attitude and strabismus, my family still chose to allow you to marry my aunt. They opted to turn a blind eye to the obvious flaws that you have, thinking that you’d make up for them by fulfilling those marriage vows you exchanged in front of the altar that fateful day.

But have you? Let’s go through some of the wonderful things you have done over the years before coming to a conclusion:

When my aunt bore you your first child and was subsequently under confinement, my frail old grandma had to attend to her needs and that of the newborn. Giving her a token of your appreciation, you generously placed a $10 bill in a red packet and handed it to her.

Along came your second and third child, and the same thing happened – you conveniently left them in my grandma’s care. This time, however, by a stroke of creativity I suppose you should have as a self-proclaimed architect, you did something different: you didn’t even show gratitude in any form, but just took it that my grandma was doing what she should be doing.

Then storm clouds gathered and my aunt was diagnosed with lymph node cancer. So valiantly, you proceeded to stretch your budget on gambling to, I reckon, earn more money for her treatment. But you know, I guess lady luck was never on your side so you end up just throwing your money down an abyss, never to see it again. Again, you strode on courageously, always looking on the bright side of things, and decided to cut back on your family’s expenditure, leaving your beloved wife with little or no money to pay for her treatments, utility bills, school fees, food etc.

What? What was it you were saying? No money, not your fault. You also don’t know what to do? You’re trying hard to make ends meet? Oh yes, I’m sorry to omit the amount of effort you put in trying to coerce my aunt into working to pay her own treatment. I’m sorry, my bad.

Alright, enough about your spouse, whom you probably love so much that you hate her. Let’s talk about your children. I’ve heard that you’ve been a great role model and teacher to them. Independence is your over arching topic in all the lessons you put them through – like having your 12 year old daughter go down to buy dinner back for you while you go on a clickerty click click rampage on gambling sites. And when she bought the wrong food up, you threw in some corporal punishment by smacking her head for the mistake. Oh, I forgot to mention that superb stunt you pulled off when you backed out from an arranged meet-the-parents session with your daughter. Now my Mum has to waddle her way down with a fractured foot, just to spoil your otherwise flawless lesson on independence by not allowing your daughter to go down alone like a fool. Wow, you’re like my all time favourite superhero - Spiderman. You could simply weave a web of lies to protect yourself from the relentless attacks of self-perceived accusations and swing away to a distant place for refuge. Maybe you should get those $1.50 Spiderman masks from a nearby Pasar Malam and hide your face because people who see you in action are bound to react, violently. Try the mask I have in the picture below, though I think it looks better on me than on you.

Amazing! I think you’ve done an amazing job as a husband-cum-father-cum-loser. You’re so good at getting it all wrong I doubt anyone can beat you to it. Maybe you didn’t dig your ears when you went through the procession of holy matrimony, that’s why you got it all mixed up. No wait, were you drunk? Because it seems every time you walk, you’re swaying from side to side and your eyes don’t look right to me. Oh, I forgot, you’re cross-eyed and that probably impaired you ability to strike a balance in life and walking. It could be a major cause of why you see right as wrong and wrong as right because you see things on the left with your right eye and things on your right with your left eye. I’m sorry, I should have known. My bad.

Uncle, you’ve never failed to make a laughing stock of yourself by your feeble attempts to be impressive. Quit it man. Seriously. Quit it. I laugh so hard I soil my Spongebob Squarepants boxers each time my family discusses you. Be genuine so we can help. Be real. Be honest about who you really are and admit your mistakes. Because he who is a respectable man shrouds himself not in fanciful decorations, but lays himself bare for all to see that he has nothing despicable or disgraceful to hide. Besides, Singapore’s so near the equator it’s insanely hot! Why on earth do you try to cover yourself with so many layers? But please! Spare my eyes and don't take me literally about baring yourself! With my current level of astigmatism and myopia, I'm already considered partially blind; I don't want to be totally blind at the sight of you in your birthday suit. Please put on you pants.

Lastly, please stop wearing those thick black rimmed or turtle shell framed glasses. Judging by your lousy acting when you cried over the phone whilst talking to my mother about your situation, you just don't have what it takes to be an emo. You sounded like you were having spasms, by the way.



Best Regards,
Justin (the one you tried to lecture about being a good son)