There are some childhood memory that I vividly remember - down to the very last detail. It's like a snapchat of that moment (be it 5 secs or 5 mins) and I recall the sight, sounds, almost as if I am there at that moment all over again.
This memory is one of them.
When I was younger, we had a pasar malam right opposite our housing estate.
Just need to cross a two-lanes "highway" (mind you, this was pre-LDP days) and we are there.
It's a weekly affair for our family - me, bro and my parents would often pop by.
My dad loves his soya bean and the occasional tau fu fah. He would often drop by the soya bean seller, and order a cup of soya bean or a bowl of warm tau fu fah in a red-and-white acrylic bowl, consumed on the spot, while standing up.
I often tagged along with my dad (as my mom wonders off somewhere else). And when he gets his order, he would of course share that with me.
My dad is a very tall man, probably taller than 6 foot. At that time, I was around five or six, so prolly half that height.
So back to this particular incident.
I was standing there, distracted by something else, and then without looking, I just tugged my dad's shirt (an indication that I want a scoop or a sip of his order). When I looked all the way up, obviously expecting my dad to hand me a scoop, to my horror, that wasn't my dad looking back at me. I tugged the wrong man's shirt! I was mortified, obviously.
And my vivid memory stops there, and the rest is all a blur.
Lesson learn :
Not every man is my daddy.
But my daddy is my every man!