It was bound to happen. My son fell in love with Pokemon. To the extent that he didn’t blink when he had to spend 4100 sats on a Pokemon trading card.

The Law of Attraction worked in his favour yesterday. My colleague gave me this Pokemon toy.

I’m not into Pokemon, but I practically skipped my way to the childcare center because I knew my boy would be ecstatic. Given the popularity of Pokemon Go around the world, the collocation bring home the bacon could have been modified to bring home the Pokemon for a modern adaptation. This must have been what cavemen from prehistoric times have felt like when they lugged carcasses to their families.

My son was thrilled. He jumped up and down with joy.

During dinner, he requested to speak to his grandpa over video call. My father-in-law used to play Pokemon Go compulsively; he boasts an encyclopaedic knowledge of Pokemon characters.

My son spoke in rapid-fire Japanese about his joy over getting this unexpected toy. Then, he asked his grandpa, “Do you know what this character is in English?”

My father-in-law confessed that he didn’t know.

“Charizard,” my son - the linguistic bridger - said confidently.

I sat in awe, admiring my five-year-old son who not only handles both Japanese and English adequately, but is able to share with others what he knows. I think he might be able to survive in this VUCA world.