After publishing the post about my lovely boy, I went upstairs and lay next to him. I was having trouble settling down because I still had many things on my mind. Around 1am, he got up and vomited all over the bed. We cleaned up and put on new sheets.

I went to the basement to do the laundry. Dao stayed with his mom, but didn’t fall back to sleep. He dozed off a bit, but then wanted milk. At first we didn’t let him because he was just vomited, but then we gave in just so he could go back to sleep. As I was pouring milk downstairs, I heard Dana through the walkie talkie saying that he threw up again. We cleaned up once again and moved to another bedroom because we ran out of sheets.

I went to the basement again to do laundry at 3 something in the morning. I called off work the next day because Dao was not ready to go back to daycare. Yesterday I also stayed him with him half of a day and then Dana stayed with him the second half. Poor fellow. I am hoping that he could return to daycare today. We’ll see.

Some funny Vietlish he said:

“so hot dao an khong duoc (so hot Dao cannot eat)”
“Dao khong want roi (Dao doesn’t want it anymore)”

I notice that he uses third person a lot. He hardly uses I, me or “con.” Not sure why that is.

With classes, I get home two hours later than working schedule, but I still can spend some time with Dao. We have dinner together then I get to give him a bath. We watch a bit of Bob the Builder before brushing his teeth. In bed, we read a few books before I turn out the lights. We hold on to each other and then we would go to sleep.

I have a light cough for a couple of days now. While I was changing him, I started to cough. Then our conversation began:

Dao: “Are you ok, daddy?” He ran to the table, picked up the cup of water and said to me, “Drink some water daddy.”
Me: “Thank you Dao. Daddy bi ho (Daddy has a cough).”
Dao: “Daddy bi ho, daddy di bac si (daddy go to the doctor).”
Me:: “Ba khong sao, cam on Dao (I am ok, thank you).”

These are some of the best moments being a father.

Dao gets to stand against the wall quite often nowadays for his misbehaving. I usually give him three chances to cooperate. If he refused I would make him stand against the wall. Seeing him standing and crying breaks my heart, but I have to do it. At two he needs to be disciplined. In the past two years, I have failed getting him to listen without making him standing against the wall. I tried to talk to him and also tried to minimize the punishment, but it was been really hard.

Once I got him to get still against the wall, I tried to explain to him what he had done wrong. He seemed to be responsive. Here’s how the conversation went recently:

Me: “Dao co ngoan khong (Are you going to be good)?”
Dao: “Yeah”
Me: “Dao xin loi mommy (Say sorry to your mom)”
Dao: “Sorry mommy.” Still crying and went on, “Dao muon di (I want to go).”
Me: “Dao muon di dau (Where do you want to go)?”
Dao: “Di vong vong (go around).” Before I could dismiss him, he stepped toward me and gave me a hug. He got me.

Labor Day weekend, we were at my sister’s house and Dao acted him when we tried to brush his teeth in the morning. He was kicking and biting hard on the brush. I made him stand against the wall while Eric stood and watched. Ten minutes later after I let Dao go, Eric came up to me with two plastic knives in his hands. He looked at me with his red, teary eyes and said, “I saw what you did.” He was about to fight me for what I did to his cousin.

I had two hamburgers this week. On Tuesday, I visited Bobby’s Burger Palace and ordered a classic and beer battered onion rings. The meat was moist and juicy, but lacked the flavor. I suppose a true classic doesn’t need any marination. The service was good and the place was packed after 12:30pm. The line was long and the price was decent.

Early today, we went to Dish for a farewell lunch. One of my co-workers is leaving GW. Of all the choices, I picked an angus beef burger. Yes, I know I am addicted to hamburger. The meat was just perfect and the size was not as big as Tonic’s so I didn’t feel so bloated after lunch. I also had a Chimay pale ale to complement the burger. Not bad at all.

I had a morning meeting; therefore, I asked Dana to take Dao to the daycare for me so I could drive straight to the Metro station. The rain caused a bit of traffic. By the time I arrived at the Metro parking, no space were available. I tried to call Dana using a public phone in case she was still home so that I could drop off my car and ride with her. She never picked up the phone when she didn’t recognized the number and it was not an exception. I called again just in case she would think it was an emergency, but still no answer. The day I needed my cell phone, I left it at home because the battery was out and I left the charger at my sister’s house over the weekend.

I then immediately thought of the shopping center nearby. I drove over and left my car there even though the sign said “no parking for commuter.” I didn’t have a choice. The rain started to pour as I headed to the Metro station. I spotted a guy at the gas station so I asked him for a lift. He was Asian so I thought he would help out an Asian brother, but he didn’t. I walked ten minutes in the rain and I was soaking wet. The good thing was that I made it on time for the meeting.

The meeting last to noon so I went back to the Metro to move my car on my lunch break. The rain poured harder so I took the cap over. It cost me $5.65 and I handed the cap driver my credit card and he said, “You use a credit card just for that?” I replied, “I only got $6 left in my wallet.” He said “That’s fine.” I felt bad that I couldn’t give him any tips. The rain was still pouring hard so I decided to have a bowl of Pho in the plaza. The Pho wasn’t that good and the condensed milk in the coffee had a sour taste.

After lunch I took the Metro back to work soaking wet once again. Boy, what a rainy day.

Damn, Dam Vinh Hung hasn’t sound this good in years. Anh Con No Em is a return to his syrupy signature that once made him popular. Other than the title track, which is passable, and a pseudo-swing rendition of “Bien Can,” the album heads straight to trendy pop shop filled with ear-candy hooks and DVH knows the important of singing the hooks. On the rest of the tracks, particularly “Khong Con La Tre Dai” and “Loi Thoat Nao Cho Nhau,” DVH caresses the hooks, makes luscious love to the hooks and even married to the hooks. Unlike many of his previous releases, DHV knows how to control himself. Instead of belting out at the top of his lung, he gives the notes just enough force and power to let you feel his pain and soul. Sure, Anh Con No Em will be forgotten in the next six months, but right now it is on heavy rotation.

Being home for a week sets Dao back to morning crying. Yesterday and today, he clung on to me like a monkey holding on to a tree branch. His arms and legs wrapped tight around my leg. This morning I stayed with him for a bit trying to get him to play with toys, but still didn’t work. I just had to hand him over to his new teacher, Ms. Amanda.

By the time I left his daycare, the parking lot at the Metro was full. I had to drop by the nearby Starbucks to work remotely until 10 o’clock when the reserved spaces were freed to park. The rain was pouring hard. I got to work all wet.

These days Dao and I sleep together. He got up several times looking for my arms. I had to get up to wrap him around me or else he wouldn’t go back to sleep. The problem is that he fell back to sleep much easier than I could.

An informative email from Dana’s aunt’s husband explaining “anh em cot cheo”:

Any way, it’s not C. Bé that I want to write about, it’s about the “coc cheo” that was mentioned in your email. In Vietnamese cọc means a rod or a stick, and chèo means a paddle or rowing. The proper term should be “cột chèo”. Cột means a post or column. I went to Google translator and typed “anh em cột chèo”, it translated to “Brothers rowing”. These four words are used to describe the relationship of two men that are married to two sisters.

Last night we had dinner at B. Minh-Mai home with B. Hương and I consulted with B. Minh about the meaning of “anh em cột chèo”. B. Minh explained the proper term for “cột chèo” is “cột kèo”. Kèo is the sloping part that support the roof (rafter?). Indivdually, cột and kèo are not related, but when they are tied together to become a structure of a house, they are somehow related.

I also asked B. Minh about using “anh em cột chèo” for cousins. B. Minh answered yes and no. No, if family is a single family. Yes, if family is a big family that all members are related up to four generations.

My definition is very simple. We are “anh em whatever” after drinking tequila from the same shot glass.

Here is my response to him:

Thank you for your thorough definition of “Anh Em Cột Chèo.” For someone like me, whose Vietnamese is moving backward and whose English is not moving forward, your explanation is very helpful. Technically, Anh Ky and I are “Anh Em Cột Chèo,” but since we all are on the same boat, we might as well “row” together. LOL!

I also like your simple definition of “anh em whatever.” We’re not related by blood, but we’re related by tequila 😉

We were watching choo choo train on YouTube together yesterday after dinner. Dao rested his cheek on my arm and uttered, “I love you, daddy.” That was the first time ever he said those words to me. I was touched.

Over the weekend, Dao met his niece who is four months younger than him. He held her hand and give her kisses. He also spent time with his cousins Eric and Sammy. They enjoyed mini-golf.

After replacing the steps to the deck on Saturday morning with my handyman father in-law, Dana, Dao and I headed to Lancaster to visit my mom and my sister for the long weekend. Later on that night, after giving Dao a bath and sending him to bed with his mom, I went out with my cousin. He took me to the grown-ass man’s club.

We walked in and greeted by about a dozen of Vietnamese grown-ass men (30s and up) and one woman. My cousin who is in his early 50s seemed to know everyone. They were sitting at a table, drinking Heineken, and singing terrible karaoke. I sat in had a beer and couldn’t take it anymore so I went over to the three-ball billiard table. The two tables that looked exactly like the ones I used to play in Vietnam many years ago. Back when I was eight or nine, I spent all my morning allowances on billiard instead of food. Rather than buying a bowl of hot and savory noodle soup, I bought 15 minutes worth of pool time. If I were still living in Vietnam, my billiard skill would have been pretty good. I probably wouldn’t have to college and go to work. I could make money shooting pool all day. But now, my skill is just horrible. I couldn’t even make a gio ga (chicken thigh).

About half an hour later, a few more fellows walked in. One of them was Dung Lai who is half Vietnamese and half white. I haven’t seen this guy over ten years, but he still recognized me. I also remembered him. His mom and him used to stay at one of my boys’ place. She was something else. She smoked, cursed and watched Chinese TV series all day and night. He was nutty, dusty (bui doi), but with a good heart. His ex-girl who has two kids with him used to go to my middle school. I still remember walking home with her. She biked to school, but she would stopped her bike and walked with me when she saw me. One year after the summer, she never returned to school. A couple years later, I found out that she was pregnant with Dung Lai. I haven’t seen her since.

An hour or so later, another dude walked him. This guy is actually a couple years younger than me. We never hung out but seem each other around when we were in high school or at some clubs. We caught up on each other’s life a bit and he informed me that him and his girl broke up last year. He’s now a “single dad” and “taking care of his three kids.” I thought, “Why the hell are you here? Aren’t you suppose to be home with your kids?” Lancaster sure is a small place. His ex-girl and I used to catch the bus together way back in elementary school when I first arrived in the States. She was smart and sharp. She used to translate for me when I didn’t understand a thing. She stood up for me when the Spanish kids made fun of me. I thought that this girl would go far in life. We went to separate middle school so I didn’t see her until we went to the same high school again. Unfortunately she hung out with the wrong crowd. First she dated his best friend, then him then got pregnant before she could finished high school. Not sure what she’s up to now.

In any rate, the place seemed like a hang out place for Vietnamese guys who were either have nothing else better to do or who were out of a relationship and have nothing better to do. I was so glad that my cousin got so drunk that I had to drive him home. Three hours of smoke and terrible singing gave me a headache the next day. I am not really sure how the owner makes money out of these guys. Time will tell when will the place will be closed down since it only opened for a week. I hope that I won’t end up spending my lonely nights like that in the future.