I seized upon this phrase yesterday morning when M and I went back to ACJC for a chat with our form teacher, who is finally pregnant, after many years of students nagging at her to have children. Our class played a big part, I am happy (sad) to say (oh, the terrors we were).
I asked her whether her parents were O.P., to which question she responded with her trademark rolling of eyes.
And the phrase has stuck with me since. It isn't a very nice adjective, but it does sound so nice when you say it!
I am currently feeling O.P., having cleaned the floor thoroughly, and am feeling that I am a Very Virtuous Daughter who can clean the floor better than her father. Please excuse the use of italics, it's only because I am feeling so very O.P. at the moment.
Don't you just wish you could wipe the smirk off my face?
***
A few Sundays ago we had a sermon on unity in the Chrisitan body. Of course, Pastor J talked about unity in families, and it struck me then that for all I complain about my father and disagree with the way he does things, I have a united family which I'm thankful for.
My displeasure with my father results in my not ironing his pants and his shirts which I deem too old and worn out, and not mopping the floor of his study room. The latter I gave in to, just now because my mum pointed out that all our labour would be in vain if he tracked the dirt from that room out to the clean parts of the house. And I might give in to ironing his pants soon, to stop him from coming to my room in the mornings demanding why they have not been ironed.
Wrinkle-free fabric, indeed.
And his shirts are so worn-out that they don't need ironing anymore because they don't wrinkle.
Keeping cool is the most important, says he.
The shirts which do need ironing I feel tremendously O.P. about, after I've finished with them.
To his credit, he did take the mop from me and mop his room, but that might have just been because he didn't want me crashing and banging about into the carcasses of old computers strewn about, with towers of books in between for good measure - you almost suspect he enjoys purposely creating impediments to a clean floor.
I'm probably also the only young person in all of Singapore whose primarily driving parent (father) constantly tells it to take the car!, but staunchly refuses to do so in the interests of the safety of other Singaporean drivers.
And he likes Jon. I fell sick on the 3rd when we were supposed to go out for my birthday, so Jon came over instead. I went to bed early, and he stayed in my house watching NCIS with my father.
So tonight, to round off my birthday week, we're going prawning! I'm very excited. Be excited for me, and I'll share the experience with you next time!
I asked her whether her parents were O.P., to which question she responded with her trademark rolling of eyes.
And the phrase has stuck with me since. It isn't a very nice adjective, but it does sound so nice when you say it!
I am currently feeling O.P., having cleaned the floor thoroughly, and am feeling that I am a Very Virtuous Daughter who can clean the floor better than her father. Please excuse the use of italics, it's only because I am feeling so very O.P. at the moment.
Don't you just wish you could wipe the smirk off my face?
***
A few Sundays ago we had a sermon on unity in the Chrisitan body. Of course, Pastor J talked about unity in families, and it struck me then that for all I complain about my father and disagree with the way he does things, I have a united family which I'm thankful for.
My displeasure with my father results in my not ironing his pants and his shirts which I deem too old and worn out, and not mopping the floor of his study room. The latter I gave in to, just now because my mum pointed out that all our labour would be in vain if he tracked the dirt from that room out to the clean parts of the house. And I might give in to ironing his pants soon, to stop him from coming to my room in the mornings demanding why they have not been ironed.
Wrinkle-free fabric, indeed.
And his shirts are so worn-out that they don't need ironing anymore because they don't wrinkle.
Keeping cool is the most important, says he.
The shirts which do need ironing I feel tremendously O.P. about, after I've finished with them.
To his credit, he did take the mop from me and mop his room, but that might have just been because he didn't want me crashing and banging about into the carcasses of old computers strewn about, with towers of books in between for good measure - you almost suspect he enjoys purposely creating impediments to a clean floor.
I'm probably also the only young person in all of Singapore whose primarily driving parent (father) constantly tells it to take the car!, but staunchly refuses to do so in the interests of the safety of other Singaporean drivers.
And he likes Jon. I fell sick on the 3rd when we were supposed to go out for my birthday, so Jon came over instead. I went to bed early, and he stayed in my house watching NCIS with my father.
So tonight, to round off my birthday week, we're going prawning! I'm very excited. Be excited for me, and I'll share the experience with you next time!
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