Having a kid in the house has never failed to amaze me. When JM was five, he invented a new way to make a hole in his skull and land in the nearest hospital. It is called a rollerskate.
To tell you the truth I am tired. I have dedicated my entire life to keeping that kid whole, and at this time of my life when I should be enjoying warming up my rocking chair or waking up at the midday... he made me a nervous wreck ... a basket case ... a wuss.
It all began when he fancied a bicycle. While shopping at SM he gave the sales ladies a hair-raising experience when he jumped into this two-wheeled vehicle and made the kitchen wares department his showroom. As I convoy along with him with one hand on his crash helmet and the wheels on the other, he pushed my panic buttons and the only words of wisdom I said were, "If you are not going to stop, you will crush in the expensive glassware ... and that will send us home penniless!"
"Really Dad. you are more concerned about money more than my safety?"
PJ on the other wants a skateboard. I don't know if he had imbibed a gallon of all those Hollywood action movie inanities, but he has the makings of a young daredevil ... or a gymnast perhaps. For the sheer lack of an indoor skateboard park or a parking lot in our area, he made our living room a living nightmare.
As he practices his heelflip and ollie in our narrowed sala, his head almost hits the lampshade, I shielded his head and here he feels off-track and pins me with his body on the carpet. "Definitely it is not my fault ... " He said. "The living room is more than crowded and here you are making it more cramped."
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In school, JM tried being a Houdini. He took a classroom chair, and let himself in by placing his head between two-closed wooden bars.
He realized he was not a Houdini after all, sister superior was almost at the end of her patience as she watched JM being sawed away from the chair.
JP tried the seesaw for a change. I tried to give him a pep talk to seesaw beginners. But did he listen to my sermon? He did not. As I positioned him on the platform, it vacillated and I was compensated for my prudence and vigilance when the wooden apparatus side swept my butt without warning. Just like that.
As they become older JM turned to basketball. My mother says it outright, "No you are not joining ..."
"What do you mean ... and what has that to do with me?" he answered.
"If you want to kill grandma, I can't stop you. But every Grandmother's Day ... mark my words you are going to feel just terrible."
It never ended.
As soon as I thought I had myself under control ... now they want a motorcycle. One night both of them left the house with the AGV helmet under their arms.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Trying to find a hill where we can perfect our bar-hop (While airborne, rider keeps both hands on the grips and extends legs straight out between arms and over handlebars.) Then we are going to balance ourselves until we fall off. Then they give me that impish smile.
"When will this end?" my mother asked.
"I guess there will be no end ..." I answered.
When both of them grow up... they will want more thrills. Getting a car for one, maybe bungee jumping, or worse parachuting.
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