Monday, September 27, 2010

hot commodity

My ex sister-in-law is what one can refer to as a F.O.B (fresh of the boat). She is like the a Clampett in Beverly (Hills that is).

Anyhow, Long, my little nephew's first day of fifth grade was a very traumatic day for the Trinh family.

"He's better off in Vietnam, he needs to be with his dad," my father told me.

Dad can be a bit dramatic in traumatic times. Me, I'd start small. New school. If that doesn't work, maybe another school system. Then work my way up to another city. A neighboring state after that. Then something within the same continent.

"What happened?"

"The principal sent Long home with a letter."

Minh Clampette took Long to school that morning. Because it was the first day, there was a meet the parents, check out the classroom, get to know the place kind of thing. Minh noticed this plump kid named Austin.

SIDENOTE: "Plump" kids are rare commodity in Vietnam, so the ones that are around get a lot of play.

Anyhow, Minh chased Austin around squeezing his cheeks and saying inappropriate things like, "You're so cute, so fat, so cute."

And Austin was running away screaming,

"Leave me alone!"

And Long was chasing his mom who was chasing Austin yelling,

"Mama Clampette, leave him alone!"

SIDENOTE: The last time I checked, Austin's therapist said he was progressing just fine.

So after work I went to my parents house. I wanted to check on Long, inspect the note and make the necessary travel accomodations for the kid.

"Long, let me see that letter."

The kid didn't move. So I figured he didn't hear me or was still in some sort of shock from the whole experience.

"Long, did you hear me, I want to see that letter."

Still nothing. His lack of attentiveness irritated me.

"Zimbabwe, somewhere remote, without electricity or running water, that'll teach you to ignore me," I thought.

But, before I have the kid deported, I decided to give him another chance.

"BLT (Bao Long Trinh), I said get me that paper," this time with a little more volume which could be misinterpreted by the next door neighbor as screaming.

The kid walked over, ever so slowly, bends down and said,

"There is no note."

A long pause on my part.

"What?" I mumbled.

"She embarrassed me auntie, I made the note part up."

An even longer pause.

"You made it up?'

He nods.

"Oh my god LT, that's brilliant."

He flashed me a smile. I guess he thought I'd be mad, but I am an rabid fan of all evil plans.

SIDENOTE: My therapist said I was progressing just fine.

"Okay LT, I have to get some stuff done for my catering, but I will be back to help you with the note."

LT didn't wait for me. When I came back from doing my errands, I was presented with this official document from a big Judge Judy fan.

Long explained to his mom that "Mr. Huff, the principal" said that if she signed the paper and said she is sorry and promised not to to mess with any other hot commodities, then she didn't have to report to his office Monday. Notice the signature and the words, "I'm sorry."

Welcome to Beverly (Hills that is) Mama Clampett.






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