Prelude: Part 2, or the Parent Trap

We have long since established the the Wife (To Be) and I are a rare breed of people, whom I refer to as Chronoptimists.

We blatantly refuse to believe that there are only 24 hours in a day, 60 minutes in an hour and 60 seconds in a minute.

We prefer to think that time is bendable to our will.

At least that must be what my parents think.

On my part, I can only imagine how stressful it must’ve been for them to send us off to the airport for the trip.

First, some facts.

Our plane was due to take off at 12 Midnight, which means that checking in STARTS at 10PM.

So, to us, this means that we should be there earliest by 10PM, and have up till 1130PM before check in stops. This would allow us to leave the house comfortably at 1030PM to catch a 20 minute cab ride to the Airport, with 40 minutes of “buffer” time for contingencies such as Emergency Toilet Breaks along the way.

To my parents, it means that we have to be there LATEST by 10PM,for checking in. On top of that, we should probably include some “buffer time” for emergencies such as Strikes by the Cab Company, the entire Singapore Taxi Fleet being annihilated by a Meteor Strike, Traffic Blocked by Runaway Cows and the hot favorite “Last Minutes Runs back home for Forgotten Passports” (I have been assured that the Home => Airport => Home => Airport “Passport Dance” is an age old and time honored Family Custom ). This means that we should be packed and all prepared to leave for the Airport by no later than… 6 in the morning. Haha. I kid, of course. They would prefer it if we were at the Airport at 6 in the morning.

I think you can only imagine the states my parents must have been reduced to when we touched down from our Malaysian flight at 3PM that day with nary a bag packed for the trip to Germany. They must have been convinced that the plane is going to leave without us at 7PM, when we strolled home with packed dinner for everyone. By the time we leave the house at 10PM (hassled out by ominous and haunting sounds of Hostile Key Jingling), I think they had to valiantly put on the “It’s your money you are wasting if you cannot catch the plane” front.

But deep down, we know that they have been reduced to little more than little pools of worry.

It’s sweet.

Times like this, I wonder if I could ever care and worry so much about Somebody elses’ trivialities, especially when said Somebody is a young punk who is half my age. It’s the sort of thing that fills you with the bitter sweet feeling when you’re going for a long trip. On one hand, you’re looking forward to the adventure, and on the other, there is this little uncomfortable feeling inside when you remember that there is someone back home actually worrying if you’ve eaten or brush your teeth.

It must have been a big relief for the Parents when they realized we were one of the first to arrive at the Airport for checking in.

There was a warm and fuzzy feeling inside when we started hugging each other goodbyes – and then they wanted to open up our locked backpack to go through the list of things that we would have Forgotten to Bring.

A Prelude…

HE SAYS

One of the side effects of getting married is that we need to live together.

It might not seem like much but I have access to very reliable empirical research that living together tears apart more marriages than, I swear this is true, asteroids crashing into Earth – and with more devastating consequences.

It seems fallacious to dive headlong into a marriage without first finding out what it is like to live with each other.

So, we decided to isolate ourselves from our friends and family.

We ran away for 2 weeks to a place where nobody knows us;
where it is so isolated that we could not understand anything the natives are saying;
where we would have to face each other 24 hours a day and wake up every morning sharing (horrors) the same tube of toothpaste;

We needed to spend quality time discussing important marriage questions such as the merits and demerits of a tube wedding gown. Verdict: Not a very good idea, especially *snort* if the bride slims down tremendously. Problems might arise when she lifts both hands to throw the bouquet.

Sidenote: Why do you need to use both hands to throw a bouquet anyway??? It’s not exactly a bouquet of plowers, is it?

We also needed space to find ourselves as a couple, defining boundaries when it comes to staying together. An advice to all other professional guys out there: Leaving the television and lights on during unnecessary situations such as “when you leave the room”, “when you fall asleep at night” or “when you need to find your glasses in the middle of the night” could potentially bankrupt the hotel as your cut throat hotel fees are not able to cover the electricity bills at the end of the month. Apparently, if all travelers are as wasteful on the electrical usage as we are, we could even bankrupt a small country like say… Germany.

On this note, apparently, we COULD understand a lot of what the natives were saying.