I try to, but I get into trouble
I'm always courting trouble when it comes to raising our children. In a way, I'm asking for it, I'm a bit of a risk-taker.
You see, I used to be a child, not too long ago, so I know how tough it can be. You think they have no jobs, no mortgages and car loans to pay off, that their lives would be simple and carefree? Unfortunately no, they have it just as bad, or likely even worse. They have early mornings in school, assemblies in the hall and worst of all, 听写. They have homework, tests and exams to study for and nasty teachers who make them stand up to read Chinese passages while their classmates laugh at their American-accented pronunciations.
As I watch them struggle with their work at the dining table, I sometimes go up to them and quietly say "Hey, Child, shall we go outside and play? Or watch a movie?". The child would instinctively look up at me with those big bright eyes, brimming with excitement yet with an obvious tint of disbelief and apprehension as if to say "Really? Is this a trick" and I whisper "Let's go".
Suddenly the child shifts her glance over my shoulder, somewhat into the distance, and the look of excitement transforms into a mixture of fear and somberness. Their eyes immediately cast back down at the test paper in front of them.
I quietly walk away without turning around, To the child, I give a sheepish smile that says "Sorry, I tried. But remember, Daddy's thinking of you."
You see, I used to be a child, not too long ago, so I know how tough it can be. You think they have no jobs, no mortgages and car loans to pay off, that their lives would be simple and carefree? Unfortunately no, they have it just as bad, or likely even worse. They have early mornings in school, assemblies in the hall and worst of all, 听写. They have homework, tests and exams to study for and nasty teachers who make them stand up to read Chinese passages while their classmates laugh at their American-accented pronunciations.
As I watch them struggle with their work at the dining table, I sometimes go up to them and quietly say "Hey, Child, shall we go outside and play? Or watch a movie?". The child would instinctively look up at me with those big bright eyes, brimming with excitement yet with an obvious tint of disbelief and apprehension as if to say "Really? Is this a trick" and I whisper "Let's go".
Suddenly the child shifts her glance over my shoulder, somewhat into the distance, and the look of excitement transforms into a mixture of fear and somberness. Their eyes immediately cast back down at the test paper in front of them.
I quietly walk away without turning around, To the child, I give a sheepish smile that says "Sorry, I tried. But remember, Daddy's thinking of you."