Too Korean

Handsome Kid On The Block

He was a black dan kid so that made him one of Madam's lackeys. He arrived midway through warming up and went directly to his fellow black dan lackey conducting warm up at the front to properly bow his respect. Properly. With the right amount of stiff. Respectful.

That was a good impression on me. He ran towards the back and righted a junior's stance. Responsible.

This kid was after my own heart.

They were then practicing the basic punches and kicks. One of the white belt hubaes had a wardrobe misfunction and so said lackey stopped warming up and pulled the junior out of formation. Like a good hyung, he proceeded to tie the uniform and belt for him, hubae standing still as hyung wrapped his arms around his waist to tie the belt on neatly. A green belt hubae also had a malfunction and hyung was readily the stylist of the day.

Warming up over. He leaned on the wall, arms crossed while eying red belt juniors practiced hitting the plank from the corner of his eyes with a solemn expression.

He was probably a sixth grade student max, about 1.2 meter tall but already he was living an example of a raised-well son. This, people, is why I am a pedophile.

Shit. He's tying another hubae's belt again. And he caught me staring at him. Argh.

Monkey And The Don

Maru was practicing his pattern. To our family honour's horror, he wasn't being serious! He punched like a sissy and kicked like a wuss. After he was done, he ran and slid back to his friends like a retired bowling ball before looking around for me.

Hunching on my plastic seat and exuding boss-mafia aura despite only two hours of sleep last night, I looked him in the eye and signaled him to come over.

I told him to punch and kick like I refused to tell him where I hid Big Bro's birthday gift for him. He cringed. I told him to punch and kick harder or I wouldn't tell him where his birthday presents are.

I believe I made him an offer he couldn't refuse.

The Dance

My taekwon do instructor used to threaten us whenever we make a mistake during practice. Flirt with that big tree until it says I love you back, or so was his words. He was then a young adult.

I never knew how to flirt with a tree until it says I love you to me or how to flirt, period. However, it did occur to me the creepiness of being loved by a tree, so I usually resort to running laps whenever I did a punishable mistake.

But today, looking at the stump where the big tree used to be, I suppose if someone lean onto its tough mighty trunk and do a sexy wave, that probably will get the tree to swoon and drool I-love-yous all over them.