Bon Journal

Family buttons

"We all have type O blood," reasoned my dad. "That's why there's friction when we get together."

People with type O blood are supposed to be stubborn and strong-willed.

"No, it's because we haven't lived together in seventeen years," I said. "That's why it takes awhile to get used to each other."

My brother knows exactly what to do and say to annoy me. He claims that I started annoying him even before I arrived, that is, in the planning of this important reunion. The first thing he did when he picked me up from the train station was to make fun of my trousers which my mom had bought for me.

My sister, whose wit was polished from her days as a political cartoonist, has an equally sharp tongue, preferring to act out what she sees is funny.

That leaves my father to defend what I didn't think was funny anyway. If my mother were here, she would have defended my brother and sister.

Go on - attack me when I'm weak, hungry, tired, and recovering from a transatlantic jet-lag and cold. I might not retaliate immediately. Oh! But just you wait when I'm stronger -- "hell hath fury a woman scorned" --- and you'll regret it.

Family reunions - much anticipated for the comfort of being with those who know you so well but much feared for the buttons that only they know exist. Once pushed, these buttons bring up re-enactment of all sorts of unpredictable emotion and behaviour.

You don't get to choose your family so you learn to live with all the buttonholes. As the neuro-linguistic saying goes "the one with the most flexibility is in control." So don't get affected by the buttons that get pushed!

13 September 2003 Saturday

Almost a full family reunion:

My sister and brother chatted well into the night while my father slept soundly upstairs. I asked them to be a bit more considerate but they told me to wear ear plugs instead.

After pacing about, I finally found a soundproof place - on the floor of my brother's walk-in closet, next to his shoes.

When he discovered me some hours later, he didn't react with sympathy. He was more concerned about me spoiling his new duvet. "That's an expensive duvet, don't mess it up!"

This was not a good way to start our five day reunion.