Eidul Adha week at home
This few days has been....interesting, to say at least. It's 2 days after EidulAdha which, might I say, could be on the not-so-enjoyable holidays list I created after the big flood incident 2 years ago. It's not the holidays, it's the events that inadvertently happened on it.
The healing scratches on my right wrist aren't so bad. I'm used to them by now, being familiar with wounds from cats and such. It's my own fault anyway, the cat at gramma's house has never been too friendly with people. (shrugs)
Then the abrupt strong storm that passed through 2 nights ago and another passed again last night, though thankfully wasn't as strong. It wrecked a little bit of the part of our roof so we had to deal with some leaks from the ceiling in the living room, my room, and Nana's room. Dad has been working to fix it these 2 days since the storm passed (while strong, it was gratefully brief) and I feel grateful for him.
Not that I'm only grateful now, but you gotta admit, Dad is really handy at times.
And the final issue would be....baby bro got busted for sneaking out.
For some, it might've been not such a big deal. For us, it kinda is. He's only 14.
I don't get it. It wasn't like Mom and Dad completely forbid us to go out at night. The rules are just to be sure to get permission, give them all the deets, and come home before 11.
Easy peasy.
I myself have gone out with friends and cousins at night, so long as I abide by these rules.
So why is there a need for sneaking out??
My heart went heavy in my chest, soaked with disappointment and fear.
Not baby bro. Anyone but baby bro. MY baby bro. My sweet little potato basket.
I don't want him to turn out like his fucked up of a brother.
I'm not mad at him for making a mistake. I just hope that he's smart enough to learn from it. Some would go, 'then just don't get caught'. No. Not my fucking point.
My point is, follow the rules.
Cliche, I know. But think of it this way, you're only 14. You have a long way to go before you find out things about life that could both destroy you and re-make you. Be patient.
It's not your time yet to make the choices, and when it is, you'll be so glad you didn't when you were younger. You're still a child. Live your life wisely as one.
Or at least, a good one.
If it's because of his cousin's "persuasion", I swear to all that is holy that I will slap both of them -baby bro AND his cousin- so hard, they'll see stars behind their eyelids.
How's that for peer fucking pressure.
Dad stormed in that night, calling him out. I grew up hearing that voice, especially in middle school and high school when little fuckface (my first brother) started going loose cannons. It never fails to strike cold fear in my soul. Funny thing is, Dad was stricter when I was a kid, and he mellowed out as I grow older. Mom was the lenient one, who grew stricter later on. So, most of Sis' and mine disciplining goes to Dad.
Generally, he's a fun guy. Makes fart jokes during dinner. Brings you hot beverages when you're studying. Tries his best to keep you on a straight and narrow path.
But he's got his limit.
Dad hates lies. He hates lies the most.
Dad's way of disciplining is not hurting us, but taking away our prized possessions. When I was a kid, if I screwed up like skipping classes or neglecting study, he'd warn to burn my comic books. Same to Sis. I always cry whenever he or Mom scolds me, because the disappointment and anger in their voice hurts me more than anything ever could.
In the most common manner, I decided it's always best to keep your eyes glued to the floor and zip your mouth shut.
As he and Mom scolded baby bro in the living room, I stood at the edge of where baby bro was sitting, wanting to comfort him but at the same time, not. It brought back so many memories, to be honest. The last time I bear witness to this type of 'intervention' was....4 years ago, I think? or maybe it was before that. I assumed it was 1-2 years before the disastrous event that was my SPM.
This is a first, I think, for baby bro.
He was always the obedient child, much like I was. We didn't mind taking orders, so long as it's reasonable. We didn't have much will of our own, to say. We didn't see reason to disobey, so it wasn't necessary. Up till now, at least, for him.
It's okay to make mistakes.
Now, you must learn from it.
The healing scratches on my right wrist aren't so bad. I'm used to them by now, being familiar with wounds from cats and such. It's my own fault anyway, the cat at gramma's house has never been too friendly with people. (shrugs)
 |
| NOT my hand. This is a random picture from Google search. I'm too lazy to put up the wounds on my own wrist. Or hand. Or whatever it is kids call it these days. |
Not that I'm only grateful now, but you gotta admit, Dad is really handy at times.
And the final issue would be....baby bro got busted for sneaking out.
For some, it might've been not such a big deal. For us, it kinda is. He's only 14.
I don't get it. It wasn't like Mom and Dad completely forbid us to go out at night. The rules are just to be sure to get permission, give them all the deets, and come home before 11.
Easy peasy.
I myself have gone out with friends and cousins at night, so long as I abide by these rules.
So why is there a need for sneaking out??
My heart went heavy in my chest, soaked with disappointment and fear.
Not baby bro. Anyone but baby bro. MY baby bro. My sweet little potato basket.
I don't want him to turn out like his fucked up of a brother.
I'm not mad at him for making a mistake. I just hope that he's smart enough to learn from it. Some would go, 'then just don't get caught'. No. Not my fucking point.
My point is, follow the rules.
Cliche, I know. But think of it this way, you're only 14. You have a long way to go before you find out things about life that could both destroy you and re-make you. Be patient.
It's not your time yet to make the choices, and when it is, you'll be so glad you didn't when you were younger. You're still a child. Live your life wisely as one.
Or at least, a good one.
If it's because of his cousin's "persuasion", I swear to all that is holy that I will slap both of them -baby bro AND his cousin- so hard, they'll see stars behind their eyelids.
How's that for peer fucking pressure.
Dad stormed in that night, calling him out. I grew up hearing that voice, especially in middle school and high school when little fuckface (my first brother) started going loose cannons. It never fails to strike cold fear in my soul. Funny thing is, Dad was stricter when I was a kid, and he mellowed out as I grow older. Mom was the lenient one, who grew stricter later on. So, most of Sis' and mine disciplining goes to Dad.
Generally, he's a fun guy. Makes fart jokes during dinner. Brings you hot beverages when you're studying. Tries his best to keep you on a straight and narrow path.
But he's got his limit.
Dad hates lies. He hates lies the most.
Dad's way of disciplining is not hurting us, but taking away our prized possessions. When I was a kid, if I screwed up like skipping classes or neglecting study, he'd warn to burn my comic books. Same to Sis. I always cry whenever he or Mom scolds me, because the disappointment and anger in their voice hurts me more than anything ever could.
In the most common manner, I decided it's always best to keep your eyes glued to the floor and zip your mouth shut.
As he and Mom scolded baby bro in the living room, I stood at the edge of where baby bro was sitting, wanting to comfort him but at the same time, not. It brought back so many memories, to be honest. The last time I bear witness to this type of 'intervention' was....4 years ago, I think? or maybe it was before that. I assumed it was 1-2 years before the disastrous event that was my SPM.
This is a first, I think, for baby bro.
He was always the obedient child, much like I was. We didn't mind taking orders, so long as it's reasonable. We didn't have much will of our own, to say. We didn't see reason to disobey, so it wasn't necessary. Up till now, at least, for him.
It's okay to make mistakes.
Now, you must learn from it.
Comments
Post a Comment