My Birthday Bag

Singapore, 25 February 2012

On 29 February 2012, I will be celebrating my “thirteenth” birthday.

The advantage of being born on a day that marks the Leap Year is, I usually have two celebrations in a non-Leap Year.

My mother says Asians can celebrate pre-birthdays but not post. My friends insist that 28 February is not my birthday as I wouldn’t have been born yet; so they choose the day after 28 February, which is 1 March in a non-Leap Year.

As for me, I usually go to bed on 28 February with a smile and the thought: “It’s my birthday tomorrow,” only to wake up the next morning, in a non-Leap Year, asking myself: “Where did my birthday go?”

Of all the presents that I have received over the years, I have often talked about a particular one – a super huge beach towel with the words, “Wonder Woman” and the picture of Linda Carter in her super hero costume printed on it. It was gifted on my “sixth” birthday, by Michael “Army Daze” Chiang, the very talented and celebrated publisher and playwright. We were colleagues in New Nation and The Sunday Times.

On 29 February 1984, Michael came to my workstation, lifted his arms and unrolled the gift, then popped his head from behind the towel and said, “This is who you are.”

I melted.

But from this year on, I will move the story of the Michael Chiang gift to the backseat; I have another story to tell. It is the story of my birthday bag – gifted by my son, Andreas, and daughter, Michaela…

Both have grown up knowing that their mother is not a fashionista. I am most comfortable wearing an oversized adidas T-shirt, a pair of adidas Bermudas and adidas shoes and throwing my keys, wallet and what-not into one of my numerous adidas bags.

Both also know that while I often splurge on others, I am less willing to pamper myself. And when they purchase anything that is branded and therefore expensive, they will get an earful from me for days and in some cases, years.

Not this time. Not this birthday bag.

In the past year, Michaela had worked as a part-time cashier at FairPrice Finest at Bukit Timah Plaza. She mostly worked on days when she didn’t have classes and on weekends. After receiving her first salary, she told me that I need not give her pocket money. She used her paycheck to buy her own bowling balls and other bowling equipment, fund bowling competitions and buy treats for her friends and the family. When she went on holidays overseas, she used her savings from her earnings.

On the nights of 13 and 14 February this year, Andreas asked to use the car. As I discovered only after the fact, he and a close friend had taken orders for flowers and teddy bears from NSmen who could not book out from camp to celebrate Valentine’s Day with their girlfriends. They topped up my petrol tank after emptying it, of course. And even after that, each had a tidy sum to keep for their delightful entrepreneurial efforts.

And so, with their hard earned money, Andreas in Singapore and Michaela in Australia purchased my gift. They calculated that it would be cheaper for Michaela to buy it from Australia and post in to Singapore than for Andreas to buy it from Singapore. So, one day last month, at Andreas’s request, I helped him deposit some money into Michaela’s bank account.

Last night, upon hearing that I have a cousin’s wedding to attend today, Andreas took out the present and said: “Mum, we know you love adidas. But MeiMei and I thought it’s time you try carrying something different. So… we hope you like this.”

I didn’t ask Andreas why he was depositing money into Michaela’s bank account last month. Now, I know…