The time has come when our child steps up from just silently observing to mimicking things as they happen. I first noticed this a couple of months ago when he got suspended from using the iPad. As if to win back his favorite toy, he would stay beside me near the kitchen sink every time it is my turn to wash the dishes. At first he just stood there, next days he gets to place the utensils on the rack. As days passed, he became more involved than before. His diligence earned him an hour or two of iPad time every after lunch.
He has also begun to follow some other routines. Lately, whenever he sees me preparing for work he would pace back and forth outside the toilet until I have stepped out and he checks what I would do next. When I brush my teeth, he acts it out; I apply deodorant, he raises his arm and rubs his imaginary Speed Stick. Yes, what I do, he does. (Wifey caught him several instances smelling his underarm after using my wax deodorant. She has transferred it to a higher level since then.) So I now wonder if this is the time to show more role modeling. And the answer is becoming apparent.
Yesterday was the first weekend that we got to test his new set of bike wheels. The bike’s original solid tire and five-spoke plastic wheels have finally broken apart weeks ago so I replaced it with inflatable tires with steel hub, spoke and rim. Upon seeing that his bike this time looks like a small scale of my old BMX, I looked forward to watch him pedal it around the village. But the pedalling didn’t happen—the freewheel made him to just coast and be pulled around by me. It made me feel desperate, so we made a u-turn just a few blocks after exiting our gate.
After quickly putting back the fixie cog to his bike I offered him a deal just so he will go biking again—bring his basketball along. It was our first time to bring the small Spalding ball to the village’s outdoor court so he was excited when we reached the place where he usually spends time biking. Me, not as much.
There was another father-and-son tandem when we arrived. They were playing hoops so Marcus parked his bike and started cheering again and again, “Shoot daddy, shoot! Shoot daddy, shoot!” A few awkward pauses later, I approached him and whispered, “Do you know that it’s bad to interrupt somebody’s game?” Yes, it was an alibi to save myself from embarrassment. I ordered him to continue biking. We left the place.
We went back home after almost an hour and both of us disappointed–me, that I have a son who can’t bike while he, about having a dad who can’t play basketball. So I must do something ASABuP–as soon as budget permits. The plan to get my own bike must be done. Or maybe I could start learning basketball again. Either of the two must happen soon or else we end up with a son who does nothing better than wash the dishes.
Mood: 2/10 Honks! (No work, will watch movie with wifey later. Just the two of us.)