I have always loved Tuesdays. We bloggers are Tuesday people. Somehow, last Tuesday started off on a wrong footing for me. In my usual topsy-turvy morning rush, I managed to lock my entire family out of the house by leaving the keys atop the shoe rack. The shoe rack is, of course, inside the house. To make matters worse, I have an eleven o’clock meeting to run to. My brain simply could not function without that compulsory-caffeine dosage every morning.
The locksmith became my savior – the one that I have to fork out money for though. I despise parting with money, particularly at an ungodly hour in the morning like last Tuesday. I got to the meeting breathless and disoriented from the whole locking-out drama.
Save for the Mee Rebus Tuesday, my day stayed on a rocky path with client whining and complaining through my old Motorola. Hell hath no fury like a client enraged – that I can assure you.
By the time I reached home late in the evening, I was ready to fall apart into million pieces; fatigue had taken over my body. But Luqman has a mind of his own. He pulled my hand towards the door, stepped into his crocs and said “Park Mommy, Park!” Let me translate that for you: he wants to go the park.
I hauled myself from the sofa, shoved my feet into a pair of thongs and scooped him up my waist. He awarded me one of his million-dollar smiles knowing that he now rules his parents. He kept chanting, “Park! Park! Park!” showing off to his grandma and Sue. He waved them goodbye, blowing kisses with drools around his mouth. So happy he was just to go to the park.
As we got nearer to the park, Luqman let go of my hand and ran to the first slide he saw. He greeted other toddlers nearby flashing his smiles to just about everyone at the park; he was in his element. Luqman craves for other children’s company since he lives in a houseful of adults. He is popular among the regular kids at the park. They love showing him stunts they can do or just chase him around. His face glowed with excitement, his eyes sparkled with a million stars and his shrieks echoed throughout the neighbourhood. He was a picture of happiness.
He kept running around the field which is surrounded with old shady trees. Few kites were flying in the sky handled by a group of boys in a distance. I spotted a girl about Luqman’s age walking towards him. She stood across Luqman, tilted her cherubic face and “chup!“, planted a kiss on my son’s left cheek. Overwhelmed and surprised by the unexpected kiss, he ran helter-skelter and fell down hitting a side bar of a swing. I laughed out loud. At the same time, my heart warmed at the sight… ahhh kids. Sweet, sweet innocence!
We kicked the ball around for a good fifteen minutes before he grew bored with the routine. I pointed to him a small adjacent hill by the side of the field. His eyes widened in anticipation. I taught him how to climb up and roll down the small hill. Luqman mastered the steps in no time. He stood at the peak of the hill making a sign that he was now an Ultraman and rolled his body all the way down. His laughter touched the deepest chord of my heart; healing away my bad Tuesday so far. His voice shouting “Ttttmman!” (Read: Ultraman) could be heard all over the field. Luqman had a ball of a time.
After about 20 trips of climbing up and rolling down the hill, he was utterly spent. Shouting “Mommmmmmmy!“, he ran towards me and threw his arms around my shoulders. The smell of grass and mud permeated my nostrils. His pants soiled with dirt, sweats smeared his face but to me he looked heavenly. He grinned endlessly while trying to catch his breath. My heart melt and everything was just perfect again. I prayed silently and thanked Him for Luqman.
Goodnight Sleepless in wherever you are…