As part of penance for being more naughty than nice this year, I decided to treat my nephew and niece to an early Christmas weekend (since Christmas will be spent in Manila and away from them).
When I arrived to pick them up, they got into the car without so much as a question to ask what their favorite (and only Tita, from my side at least) had in store for them. Little did Luigi and Angelica know that this Tita hadn’t planned on anything except perhaps a quick stop to the nearest Toys ‘R’ Us, a quick Happy meal at the nearest McD’s, an uneventful sleepover, and then back to where they rightly belonged.
Close to feeling helpless, I called my ever dependable sister-in-law before heading off with intended game plan. Not only did she offer her place (and her own little adorable daughter, Aaliyah) as a temporary drop off point and distraction while I come up with a better plan, she fed me with great home-made Lontong dunked in a kick-ass Vegetable Curry. Good thing my brother found someone to save him from the clutches of evil singlehood and hunger.
While my sister-in-law, Aaliyah and their helper kept the kids occupied, I had to rush home to prepare dinner for my own overgrown baby. Why we didn’t just plan dinner together with my brother and his family escapes me, but on hindsight, it was probably because I hadn’t let Eder in on the fact that I had “kidnapped” my nephew and niece without discussing ransom plans with him.
So while the pork ribs were being grilled in the oven and the broccoli was being stir-fried, a brilliant plan descended upon the kitchen. We’ll go fishing!! How can kids not enjoy fishing?? And Eder, well, with his love for all things under the sea (or in this case, a big pond), I was almost sure he wouldn’t object.
After dinner, we (ever reliable sis-in-law and I) arranged to meet at a nearby park. Eder had discovered this place a couple of month ago (although my brother had known about it since they moved there, a mere block away from said park) and since then, has been a frequent fisher visitor. The first time Eder brought me there, I got bored. How could anything as mundane as waiting for fish to bite on the bait be worth the time and effort?? When sis-in-law suggested then that I try my hand at prawning (where, as the name suggests, is fishing but for prawns, duh), I had resisted insisting instead on watching her do so. Several catches later, she placed the rod in my hesitant hands to tend to Aaliyah who seemed to catch more prawns than the little one could handle. No sooner than I could spell crustacean, I felt a tug on my line. Still skeptical about this prawning business, I stared emptily at the red floater bobbing wildly on the water.
“PULL TITA LEAH!”
I never imagined a Liliputian like Aaliyah had the lungs of Goliath!! Pull I did, and the rest they say is I-caught-a big-ass-prawn-all-by-myself history. I’ve been hooked (pun alert) ever since.
But I digress.
As I had hoped and prayed, the night of fishing and prawning was a hit with the kids. Every fish and prawn they hauled out of the water was not without excited squeals punctuated once too often with, “YES!” complete with matching air-punching gestures. In all, we had 18 large prawns and 4 equally massive fishes. As if seeing their spirits still soaring even after the event was over wasn’t enough, I was rewarded twofold when at one point, Luigi held my hands and with a twinkle in his eyes remarked, “I really enjoyed tonight, Tita Leah.” Can anyone say Wonder-Tita?
After splitting the catch (where we got all the prawns, and sis-in-law got all the fishes), we headed on home. And this was where things started going down. Due to the lack of sleep (I had just arrived from Shanghai earlier that morning), a nagging head ache threatened to rear its ugly head but because I was kept busy most of the time, I managed to ignore it. But on reaching home with the kids, smelly and all (think sweat interlaced with odors associated with a fish market), it kicked in. Getting the kids to wash up was a struggle. Getting them to bed was a battle. Making sure that they were still breathing while asleep was a nightmare.
Despite a relatively fitful night, I woke up confident that the kids had survived another night. And because my kitchen pantry is not equipped to feed the world (as my mom would often refer to her brood of four), I scampered around for something to prepare for breakfast. Under normal circumstances, i.e. no living person below 3 feet at home, Eder and I would drive to the nearest kopi tiam for breakfast if there were nothing edible at home (or if we were simply too lazy). Like a miracle, I stumbled upon a tin of spam. Thinly sliced and pan-fried to a crisp — the only way I’ll have it — I served it with rice to the kids. Much to my delight, they stuffed their faces with it. They are blood after all.
The afternoon was spent in hell. Or what seemed like it. I have learnt that Christmas is soooo not the time to be in a Toys ‘R’ Us store. With the “I don’t want to grow up, I’m a Toys ‘R’ Us kid” jingle blaring, a hundred and one kids running all around and the parents of these hundred and one kids trying to keep up with them, it was a madhouse. I sternly instructed the pair I had with me to quickly choose an item and then head straight at the cash register where I would wait.
While twiddling my stubby thumbs, I noticed how the store crew members were straining to keep their smiles on amidst the chaos. It didn’t seem as if it were the convergence of a hundred and one brats bothered them as much as the parents who were shooting a dozen questions per second about the items they were about to recklessly spend on.
“What sort of batteries are needed?” Well, if you knew how to read, you’d know just by reading the packaging!
“Why don’t you provide free batteries??” Because if they did, you’d find something else to ask for free.
Eder has always thought I’d never make a good sales person.
The shopping duo took longer than I had expected and wondered if depriving them of their promised happy meals would make for good punishment. But when they walked over beaming with their selected item, I choked. Another lesson learnt, never underestimate the power of childlike innocence.
While shelling out a small but well-worth-it fortune, the cheerful cashier asked if I would be interested in applying for a Toys ‘R’ Us membership. “I don’t think so. Next Christmas, it’ll be all books”, I promised.
After stuffing themselves yet again at McD’s (what the hell is it with those happy meals that actually make kids happy????), it was FINALLY time to relinquish my role as Mother Goose for the weekend. Luigi, the elder and more expressive one, said before leaving, “Thank you Tita Leah, we really enjoyed the weekend! Merry Christmas!”
I was, admittedly, relieved yet heavy-hearted to see them walk away.
What is it about these delicate creatures that makes us — and I’m not even their mother — fuss over them, reprimand them, then worry that they might stop breathing in their sleep?? And the moment they’re awake, it happens all over again. And to think that this cycle carries on for a lifetime!
My respect for mothers, except the ones who let their children whinge and stomp in the middle of a Toys ‘R’ Us store, has just gotten one notch higher.
