Not so long ago when i was the most sought after teddy bear in my village ( because i am the shortest, i mean the cutest he he he), i have this most worth remembering experiences. Experiences because it happens almost every day.This almost daily scenarios leads and made me what i am now a person who loves to listen but also a person who needs somebody who will listen.
We have a helper who every morning before i will go to school will always ask me ... "who will you fight with today? How many wrong answers will you make today? How many time will you cry and teased and bullied today? Those are questions i can't answer right there and then but only when i come home. Needless to say, i got series and chapter by chapter of what she expects to happen to me.
Everyday i come home with bruises and tears. I tried to explain and tell her what happened, that i was harassed by terrorist and pirates, that i tried to rescue a damsel in distress, that i forgot to spell correctly Popye ... i mean Popeye but instead i was bombarded with a million and three questions. I tried to use our family abacus (we are Chinese) but the abacus exploded while i was computing all her inquiries and scoldings. The best thing i can do then is inhale and exhale and prepare my butt for may afternoon spanking delight.
Finally when she left, i can say that it is like a day and night difference. There's no more false prophet in the backyard he he he.And the cousin of Hamurrabbi is no longer in the house. I screamed " freedom!". My days where full of delight then because both my mom and dad came home after losing their business. But the little while of tranquility when our helper was gone was replaced by daily quarrel of my parents over money.
It is like listening to cannon, mortar, grenade, missile and land mine explosion.Our house has turned into a battle field or in lighter sense it becomes the house of the flying daggers he he he.There are times that i come home still in tears and bruises and zero scores and also love stories sometimes.I come home with questions for my mom but they cant give me the answer.
Every time i attempt to ask my mom i choose not to ask at all because she is grasping for air and was in and out between heavens gate and planet earth with St Peter attempting to usher her in.(She got asthma). So instead of me being cared, hugged by her it was me taking care of her. Instead of my mom listening to my stories it was me listening to her breathing and crying while hoping that she will not pass away.
I tried to turn to my dad hoping he can be of help because mom can't but it was of no avail because he is drowning in alcohol, beers, gins and tuba if there's no budget. But most of the time black label he he he. Pigadong sosyal he he he.So there's none actually who will listen to me. I was all by my self, though i don't wanna be but i'm all by my self coz there's no one.
So then i decided that i should be more of a listening guy than a person who needs to be listened to. But then i realized that i can't fully live life if i will not accept the truth that this once most hug-able kid now turned into simply just loveable needs to be listened to (sometimes).My mom, my dad, gosh ! though they failed to listen to me but i thanked them for making me keen in listening even to the most kept emotions of my clients.It equipped me as a Speaker and Trainer and Disturber.
My mom and dad were really quite fellows every time i am in deep deep trouble. But now they are 100 % totally, absolutely quite. Living in a very quite, tranquil Village that celebrates its special Festival On Nov. 1 and 2, ( you know that place for sure.) Ha ha ha ha. i can really laugh with how God equips somebody for his divine assignment. Ma, Pa how i wish you are here and see what you made me do. I miss you guys.I hope you both will be noisy when we met someday in heaven. That will be so long for sure, so just be patient guys.
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