Gen(e)iuses at work

Every time Viv does something strange and I point it out, he tries to push the blame to his genes.

"I know, my Dad does this too." He would shrug his shoulders and say. I didn't believe him at all.

Okay, now sample this.

A few months ago, we were walking around in San Francisco when I saw a group of people travelling on the road on strange-looking vehicles. Call me ignorant but I did not know what that was.

"What's that?" I asked Viv.

"Segway tour."

"Huh? What's that?"

"Segway tour."

"Ughh... But what is a Segway tour???"

"Segway..." He said slowly, paused and looked at me, as if that was explanation enough, and then concluded with "tour!"

And he continued walking leaving me gaping at him in the middle of the road.

So we had an argument about my lack of knowledge about Segway tours and his lack of erm, vocabulary. And I won and it concluded with him saying, "Hmmm... actually my dad does this too."

Fast-forward to the present.

We were thinking of suitable touristy activities for the in-laws who have been to Singapore so many times they have already seen the usual stuff.

"Oooh I know! Why don't you try the reverse bungee this time???" I suggested.

"What's that?" My Mom-in-law asked.

Before I could open my mouth, Dad-in-law had spoken.

"Reverse bungee." He said.

"Huh? What's that?"

"Reverse bungee." He said.

"Ughh... But what is reverse bungee???" She asked.

"Reverse..." He said slowly, paused and looked at her, as if that was explanation enough, and then concluded with "bungee!"

Mom-in-law and I looked at each other and shook our heads, united in our agony.

I feel your pain, sistah.