You know, when I was a little girl I would look up to my Papa as the smartest person in the world, my hero. He knew everything, from my spelling words to my 2 + 2s. When I came running through the door back from school updating him with everything I learnt from the newest toy at Toys r Us or some game I learnt. He’ll know exactly what I was talking about and even teach me more, I’ll then pass on my newly acquired knowledge to my friends at school the next day. I remember as a kid, my dad will encourage me to read the newspapers and the only articles which interested me were those of natural disasters or unfortunate events like the recent Bridge Collapse which involved huge numbers of casualties. Every time one happened, we’ll talk about it for hours.
I think I was about 5 when a train disaster happened; I will rush for the papers every morning and took it upon myself to inform everyone about the rising death toll which of course only my father patronized. This common rather sadistic interest cultivated quite a bond between us. He’ll then explain to me how the disaster happened and I just listened intently, never questioning and never thinking he could ever be wrong.
Well as I grew up, collecting one educational certificate after another I found myself often thinking I was smarter than my father. Many a times I catch myself saying “How can you not know something so simple” usually when he takes a long driving route rather than a short cut regretting it later that I didn’t consider his age or he’ll come and try to give a solution to a problem he had overheard me discussing with my sisters earlier and I’d just brush him with a “You wouldn’t know”. Not thinking for a moment that I didn’t know much as a kid as well but he will always take time to explain no matter how long it takes for me to understand. Slowly as I grew up, I stopped sharing absolutely everything with my father and started keeping secrets which my Mummy constantly tells me, upsets my Papa a bit.
So anyway, last night at Dinner I was so excited because during the course of my work I learnt 2 new words.
Spurious - Lacking authenticity or validity in essence or origin; not genuine; false.
Exegeses - Critical explanation or analysis, especially of a text
And couldn’t wait to run home and ask my Papa if he knew what they meant. Hardly ever have I ever questioned my Papa a meaning of a word which he didn’t already know. Of course he knew this 2 as well. He then returned the favour by asking me if I knew what Inflammable meant. Of course I didn’t! Because really, I’m lazy. I ashamed myself by saying it meant Not Flammable when it actual fact it means More Flammable than Flammable. Haha…apparently its widely known knowledge. It is times like these when it’s still nice to know, that with a University Degree in hand and a full fledged adult. I am still learning new things from my Papa and appreciating his wisdom.
I guess this is why intelligence is so attractive to me. Maybe I should go play scrabble tonight.
