A grocery run led me across the road where I saw a marquee set up and long tables where people seemed to be painting. On closer inspection, it was a community event set up by the constituency- the all powerful one; Tanjong Pagar and there was indeed painting- communal batik painting. On the other side, there was a display of mosquitoes to raise dengue awareness and balloon sculpting.
Something for each of the kids.
I high tail home to get the kids to return with all three and Packrat in tow.
As expected, Evan was fascinated with the mosquitoes; them at different stages of their life cycle- larvae, pupae and the adult ones malevolently flying about in a contained box. No photos because Evan was both fascinated and freaked out by the them and gripped on to my arms for dear life.
Both of them loved the batik painting. If I hadn't been holding the container of dye, I would have done some too. I suspect it will become a mural of sorts somewhere.
Muffin didn't do any of that but loved the balloon swords they were giving out and duelled with anyone willing to give him time of day.
They marched home with the 'swords' held high, patriotically coloured in national colours resembling a shaggy rag tag contingent for National Day.
Because it was a community event, the MPs for the constituency were in attendance. I point out to the twins one of the constituency's MPs Indranee Rajah and tell them that she helped saved their school.
Jordan walks up to her, stands by her side politely and waits while the she finishes off her conversation with someone else. The MP notices Jordan and Jordan mouthing something to her in all the noise. She bends over and Jordan says to her "I am Jordan. I am from St James Kindergarten. Thank you for saving my school."
I can't get out of Jordan what Indranee Rajah's response was. Every time we try to ask her, she tells us what she said and smiles. But the MP did break out into a big smile and looked up at me to ask if Jordan is my daughter. I reply in the affirmative and she asks where we live; that to me is a strange question. But she does comment how nice it is that a little girl came up to her and spoke to her and how interesting that she and Evan (who had by then torn himself away from his beloved mosquitoes and appeared by my side) were twins.
Packrat's only comment on seeing a photographer take a photo of the exchange; that it doesn't appear in the press because Jordan looks like a little street urchin with wet hair, an old t-shirt and shorts paired off with wellies. Unless the press wants to try to make scruffy chic.
All this for the want of some painting and some mosquitoes.
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