Before I went to bed last night, I texted YK to take the train home after the Christmas bash. His friend's father is from Europe, so they were celebrating Christmas in a big way. I received YK's call at 11.40pm. The gates at the train station had already closed as service ended early due to the Christmas holiday. "What about your friends?", I asked, annoyed that my sleep was interrupted.
"Their parents have fetched them home. One walked home cos he lives nearby. I'm the only one at the station. Sorry to wake you up...."
So, I picked him up from the station which is about 10 minutes drive away. It's mum to the rescue again. That's something nice about having a family, somehow you can always count on parents and siblings for help.
I remember how mum would rouse my father from his sleep on cold rainy mornings to send us to the bus stop. When I was a young adult, I would come home from parties in the wee hours of the morning to find dad waiting up for me.
Sometimes I wonder about other parents, especially those with abusive or bad kids. I know an old lady who has a son like that. He never cares about her welfare but would come knocking whenever he's in need of money or help. She avoids him like plague yet sometimes she feels sorry for him. He's her son afterall.
I often read about criminals being sentenced to death or imprisonment. Their parents would be at the court hearing, traumatised and heartbroken. How did their child end up like this? They chide themselves for not bringing their kid up properly. Can a parent ever hate his own child? It's a very tough one. And it is too easy to judge other people but no parent wish anything like that to happen to their own child.
I wonder how I end up discussing about this today. I, for one, can never stay angry with my kids for long. It'll be interesting to hear what other parents have to say but I've got to go now to bring mum to the dentist and then to her GP to pick up some medicine.