Story of a hilariously Awkward life
Run, duck and cover, introduction of mama
OK so in the last chapter, I was introducing you to the 3 main characters of this story. So basically this is how the story starts. No I won't go through the blood, gore and horrific details on how we came into this world. I do have the heart to not fry your lovely minds and stomach. To those who are curious....go ask your mom how you came into the world.It's pretty much the same.
Hopefully your mom will be kind enough not to go into details about how you were created. Anyways, on with the story shall we?
Before we could go on , I must introduce you to another character. My mom.
Meet my mom, Shirley Hendricks. She never took on my dad's last name, because she already love her's dearly. I don't blame her, I mean when you say :-' My last name's Hendricks' people automatically assume that you are related to Jimmi Hendrix. Even though you may not wish for it, but heck that's pretty cool. She is the essential part of the story, because just by being there, you'd see where we get our personality from.
To my eyes, she is one tough woman. She doesn't take any shit from anyone, she's fair, play her cards well and man she can fight. Her teachings are somewhat weird too. But it kept us alive non the less. Talk to her about safety and she'll show you the chopper under the kitchen sink. If you think that super heroes have super hearing..think again. You can never sneak out the back door without her catching you on the act. She may sleep dead to the world and a bomb would go off, she wouldn't wake up. But the slightest whispered 'psst!' and a shuffle of feet and she is up, demanding what's up.
Living with mom, there are some rules we follow, to save ourselves...when I say save ourselves, I mean it literally. Here are the rules.
#1: When she is pissed, duck and cover.If you have river dance talent, that would be a plus.If you are the one she is pissed at, make sure you have all escape plans, scoped out to ensure survival.
#2: In relation from nr.1, be nowhere near her when pissed. Sneak in the kitchen as silently as possible and slide her pack of cigarettes on the table, it calms her down.
#3: Never talk to her about sex. (Will be explained later on in the story)
#4: When you sit and talk with her be very prepared for stories, metaphors, weird superstitions, full blown drama act out and other things not really relating to the subject.
#5: when talking to her about music, know your stuff, otherwise there's no point talking.
#6: When you have a huge problem with bullies,go to her (you'll see why in the story) but only if you are prepared for embarrassment.
#7: She is right you are wrong, so shut the hell up already.
#8: No point in bringing a guy/ girl home unless they fit the profile:
* he/she has skin as thick as crocodiles hides (metaphorically speaking)
*he/she is decent looking and respectable
*able to hold their drink
*good taste in music, big + if they could play the guitar and drums. She loves rock
*giving and caring and able to hold her crude sense of humor
*never talk back to her and stay out of family problems.
So far only one person manage to come through with that, sadly he had to screw it up in the end.
Another thing that makes mom stand out from others, in my pov, is her weird structure to things. For ex: The Beatles are too rowdy, but The 69 Eyes are cool and relaxing. Pin up mama boys, with good upbring are known as kiss asses, but leather clad biker/rock stars are reasonable date for daughters, just as long as they ask her permission, keep their word, never hurt her daughters and bring them home on time. Elvis makes her cry and giggle like a school girl, Hank Williams makes her see red, Chubby Checker makes her wanna rock and roll but Chris Isaak makes her wanna smash him in his face. All ex's are considered the bad guy, even if you both agreed to the break up, and cheating partners deserves castrations. With the exception of Mick Jagger, Elvis, Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise and Keith Richards, she lives in denial about their habits, they can do wrong in her eyes.
Now that you have officially met my mom, let's move on....
Mom was a great dancer in her time. Thanks to my grandfather, Roy Hendricks...the only sane person in our large family. He taught her ballroom, she later picked up Rock and Roll on her own. I love watching them glide the room, dancing the waltz.
She had a fairly hard life, and had 7 children in her first marriage, which ended her dreams of ballroom dancing, being in a band and joining the convent to be a nun, for some reason. Anyways, cliff note version, the marriage ended badly living her with 7 mouths to feed. Thanks to her skill in cooking and an honest heart, she found friendship to her jolly neighbor, from Finland. He helped her get a job on board the ship as a cook. She was recommended to many other ships, and soon landed a job at my father's ship. Love at first sight between mom and William senior.
Wedding bells rang and soon after, I was born, then my sis and lastly Jr. We were born in the sunny Island of Singapore, in the south east Asia and if you look at you map, there's only a star marking it's country.
Now living with a captain for a father means you rarely see him around. Sailors and Sea mens were the rock stars of that age. He would go for long periods of time and only come back home for a couple of weeks, before sailing of to another country for 3 months or more. So we rarely see him, but we were proud of him none the less.
Years when by and by then I was four, Shay 3 and Jr 2. Already at the young age Jr knew what pranking was, Shay, knew what negotiating was and I, well I knew what please was and if I can't have it, I live without.
Mom would always tied a string around our ankles, her old fashion way of ensuring we don't go tumbling down the stairs, dragging hot soup of our table and the string provides restrictions, take away our space means minimize on the mischief. We each had our corners. Me and my sis protested against it...well mostly my sis, I would just pout...but for some reason known only to God alone, Jr loved it. Every morning after bath, he would be at his corner prepared for the string, while mom wrestle with my sis. And each time he sees the string, he would grin maniacally, almost evil like, that would freak my mom out really bad. Jr was really curious, come to think of it, that's what made him who he is. Don't touch the red button, means touch the red button and see what happens. But mom was wise enough to care for us, and was fast enough in reflexes to grab the hot soup away from him and saved him from a heck of alot of scaring.
Hopefully your mom will be kind enough not to go into details about how you were created. Anyways, on with the story shall we?
Before we could go on , I must introduce you to another character. My mom.
Meet my mom, Shirley Hendricks. She never took on my dad's last name, because she already love her's dearly. I don't blame her, I mean when you say :-' My last name's Hendricks' people automatically assume that you are related to Jimmi Hendrix. Even though you may not wish for it, but heck that's pretty cool. She is the essential part of the story, because just by being there, you'd see where we get our personality from.
To my eyes, she is one tough woman. She doesn't take any shit from anyone, she's fair, play her cards well and man she can fight. Her teachings are somewhat weird too. But it kept us alive non the less. Talk to her about safety and she'll show you the chopper under the kitchen sink. If you think that super heroes have super hearing..think again. You can never sneak out the back door without her catching you on the act. She may sleep dead to the world and a bomb would go off, she wouldn't wake up. But the slightest whispered 'psst!' and a shuffle of feet and she is up, demanding what's up.
Living with mom, there are some rules we follow, to save ourselves...when I say save ourselves, I mean it literally. Here are the rules.
#1: When she is pissed, duck and cover.If you have river dance talent, that would be a plus.If you are the one she is pissed at, make sure you have all escape plans, scoped out to ensure survival.
#2: In relation from nr.1, be nowhere near her when pissed. Sneak in the kitchen as silently as possible and slide her pack of cigarettes on the table, it calms her down.
#3: Never talk to her about sex. (Will be explained later on in the story)
#4: When you sit and talk with her be very prepared for stories, metaphors, weird superstitions, full blown drama act out and other things not really relating to the subject.
#5: when talking to her about music, know your stuff, otherwise there's no point talking.
#6: When you have a huge problem with bullies,go to her (you'll see why in the story) but only if you are prepared for embarrassment.
#7: She is right you are wrong, so shut the hell up already.
#8: No point in bringing a guy/ girl home unless they fit the profile:
* he/she has skin as thick as crocodiles hides (metaphorically speaking)
*he/she is decent looking and respectable
*able to hold their drink
*good taste in music, big + if they could play the guitar and drums. She loves rock
*giving and caring and able to hold her crude sense of humor
*never talk back to her and stay out of family problems.
So far only one person manage to come through with that, sadly he had to screw it up in the end.
Another thing that makes mom stand out from others, in my pov, is her weird structure to things. For ex: The Beatles are too rowdy, but The 69 Eyes are cool and relaxing. Pin up mama boys, with good upbring are known as kiss asses, but leather clad biker/rock stars are reasonable date for daughters, just as long as they ask her permission, keep their word, never hurt her daughters and bring them home on time. Elvis makes her cry and giggle like a school girl, Hank Williams makes her see red, Chubby Checker makes her wanna rock and roll but Chris Isaak makes her wanna smash him in his face. All ex's are considered the bad guy, even if you both agreed to the break up, and cheating partners deserves castrations. With the exception of Mick Jagger, Elvis, Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise and Keith Richards, she lives in denial about their habits, they can do wrong in her eyes.
Now that you have officially met my mom, let's move on....
Mom was a great dancer in her time. Thanks to my grandfather, Roy Hendricks...the only sane person in our large family. He taught her ballroom, she later picked up Rock and Roll on her own. I love watching them glide the room, dancing the waltz.
She had a fairly hard life, and had 7 children in her first marriage, which ended her dreams of ballroom dancing, being in a band and joining the convent to be a nun, for some reason. Anyways, cliff note version, the marriage ended badly living her with 7 mouths to feed. Thanks to her skill in cooking and an honest heart, she found friendship to her jolly neighbor, from Finland. He helped her get a job on board the ship as a cook. She was recommended to many other ships, and soon landed a job at my father's ship. Love at first sight between mom and William senior.
Wedding bells rang and soon after, I was born, then my sis and lastly Jr. We were born in the sunny Island of Singapore, in the south east Asia and if you look at you map, there's only a star marking it's country.
Now living with a captain for a father means you rarely see him around. Sailors and Sea mens were the rock stars of that age. He would go for long periods of time and only come back home for a couple of weeks, before sailing of to another country for 3 months or more. So we rarely see him, but we were proud of him none the less.
Years when by and by then I was four, Shay 3 and Jr 2. Already at the young age Jr knew what pranking was, Shay, knew what negotiating was and I, well I knew what please was and if I can't have it, I live without.
Mom would always tied a string around our ankles, her old fashion way of ensuring we don't go tumbling down the stairs, dragging hot soup of our table and the string provides restrictions, take away our space means minimize on the mischief. We each had our corners. Me and my sis protested against it...well mostly my sis, I would just pout...but for some reason known only to God alone, Jr loved it. Every morning after bath, he would be at his corner prepared for the string, while mom wrestle with my sis. And each time he sees the string, he would grin maniacally, almost evil like, that would freak my mom out really bad. Jr was really curious, come to think of it, that's what made him who he is. Don't touch the red button, means touch the red button and see what happens. But mom was wise enough to care for us, and was fast enough in reflexes to grab the hot soup away from him and saved him from a heck of alot of scaring.