Diary entry 10/1/26
1st Diary update of 2026.
I want to start off on a more positive note, or rather, i’m just squeezing out whatever positive moments i have so far.
My writing hours and words have dropped significantly due partly to work and also the situation at home. With my in laws around, it’s hard to find a corner, both in my house and head, to start writing.
I can’t be cooking lunch for everyone in one moment and start thinking like ‘James’ trying to execute another perverted stunt with his cousin or sister in law. Doesn’t work that way unfortunately.
Between day job, trying to care for everyone , making sure they are fed, fridge has groceries, it was just exhausting. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel though because today is a big day. My in laws, after spending some time at our place, has made a full recovery. The physio is paying off, the follow ups were all positive, and tonight, will be the last night they are staying over.
It’ll be a full day of packing up, shuttling stuff to their place, and tomorrow morning, i will be sending them home around noon time.
It doesn’t matter who you stay with, be it your parents or in laws, there’s bound to be little conflicts here and there. I mean let’s face it, we all have different habits. Some will irk others more.
For adults like me and wife, we’re fine. Fuck it, i can deal with it, just move on. Things are different for the kids. 1, for example, is particular about her belongings, how they are arranged, in short, don’t touch her stuff. Even if there’s a stand of spider web and a family of daddy long legs nesting on that figurine, leave it alone. Because those spiders were her unofficial pet.
Do you think old people cna stand having cobwebs and spiders in the room they are in?
And there so lies the conflict.
When one helped to clean out of concern and good intention, the other takes it as a invasion of privacy.
And parents like us has to deal with it.
There’s just so many more of these little incidents and trigger points, my mind was numb most of the time. I’m just hanging on and hoping to get through the day.
My escape usually lies in the gym, but my membership is over. And i’m seriously thinking about shelling out money for another long membership. Expenses have gone up around the house this month, school just started and all, frankly speaking, going to the gym just falls pretty low on the priority list. I can always go for a jog. Will just sleep on it for a couple of days before making up my mind.
I have still having issues with the bank payouts. Its ridiculous. I even went down the the bank branch to ask the staff, she tells me one thing, when i came back and followed the instructions, it was back to square one again. My email was literally flooded with email from the platform saying the bank has rejected my transfer due to invalid account.
It has something to do with the branch code. The branch where i opened the account, has shut down. Then my account was suddenly moved to another branch, and that branch, being new, does not have it’s branch code in the platform yet. I’m going to be making a trip down to the bank later to try and sort this out.
Without the transfers, there’s a lot of stuff that’s on hold. It’s irritating but i believe it can be solved. I’ll bring my whole laptop down to the bank and do it in front of them if i have to.
2, recently went to a friend’s place for a playdate. Kids, being kids, compare everything. She use to tell me her friend flew business class when they travel.
And i’ll go like, ‘orh’
I’m not flying business class to bangkok, and i’m definitely not paying for my kids to. It’s different though, if they are working and decides to treat me to it.
‘My friend house got swimming pool’
James : ours also have. We just share with a few hundred families.
‘My friend house the pool stretch into the living room’
James : ‘orh’, they can watch TV halfway and jump into the pool?
‘My friend she has TV in every room’
You get the drift. She tells me, i just acknowledged it.
This time, she came back with a comparison that bothered me.
Rice cooker.
2 : my friend has this very amazing rice cooker, can cook a lot of things. the mummy made soup and meat with it, it’s very nice. why our rice cooker cannot do so many things?
And i was stumped.
For context, this is my rice cooker.
I bought it from Qoo10 back in like 2012 or 2013, i can’t remember. It cost me $8.90 after discount and whatever coupons. It’s small, it’s functional, and it works. Just nice for me and my wife when we moved into our BTO.
It cooks rice.
I’m still using it today. It can take 3 full cups, enough for 6 hungry adults.
I have an idea of the cooker 2 is talking about, i’ve seen it, some friends are using it, but unless i’m getting paid to talk about it or promote it, i’m not going to flashing pictures about it. haha
What i don’t understand however, was why am i so bothered by the rice cooker comparison? I don’t care if the friend has a bigger house, 2 cars, 3 maids or 4 swimming pools. My wife only cares if the playdate’s mother looks exceptionally hot and she will refuse to let me go pick up 2 on my own.
So why the rice cooker?
Perhaps it was a deeper reflection of my own insecurities. A cheap rice cooker wasn’t just about cooking rice anymore, it was a symbol of something more.
My pragmatic approach of “it works, so why replace it” suddenly felt inadequate. The world was moving forward with multi-functional appliances, smart technologies, and convenience, while I was stubbornly clinging to a decade-old kitchen tool.
That’s the key word, i was stubborn.
I rather have rice cooking in that pot, soup boiling on the stove, dishes steaming on the other rather than having it all in one.
James : out kitchen have no space for something that big.
That was my excuse to 2.
Perhaps out of habit to my emotionless reply, she just nodded and went away, the comparison probably already cast out the back of her head.
The rice cooker conversation nagged at me. Not because of the device itself, but what it represented i think.
Incremental progress. Small upgrades. The ability to provide something slightly better for my family.
I want to give them more, but at the moment, i think the 8.90 rice cooker should suffice.
I shared this conversation with my wife and told her for 2’s birthday, i will buy her the rice cooker.
James: she won’t use it, so i have no choice but to use it….sigh…
Wife : tsk…
She gave me the dirty look and i said i’m just kidding.
I’m considering to get it for my wife’s birthday.
Unfortunately, my wife was smarter and faster than me as usual.
Wife : if you are getting it for my birthday, make sure it has the masturbate and bj function…because those aren’t coming from me for the rest of the year.
James: what the fuck…that is so unnecessary. We’re talking food prep equipment you know…
Wife : i’m just saying…because i know what you are thinking…
She has a point though. Between a convenient, fancy cooker, and sexy intimate time in the bedroom, i’ll take the bj anytime.
Besides,I’ve yet to taste rice grains so good, that it gave me an orgasm.
James S
Diary update 27/1/26
I found a temporary fix to the bank issue, but it’s like sticking a plaster on a wound and hoping it doesn’t split open. It works now, but i’m probably on a timeline to find a permenant fix.
Anyways, with the money issue settled, i can finally pay the bills. Site domain renewals, hosting fees and whatnot has all increased their price slightly. I’m already on a legacy plan but it suffice for the site for now, so i have no plans to make major changes to it.
Finally got down to do this as part of the site’s annual tradition. Have set aside a percentage of the site’s takings for this regularly, unfortunately it’s not as high as what i hope it was but it is what it is.
Site is still doing ok, making a small profit every month after cost. Will continue this tradition as long as i’m able to.
Ok moving on to the plans for the site in 2026.
After the stressful month of December and early Jan, i’m finally getting back to my normal writing routine. The longer length piece grassroots is developing nicely, and i’m trying to introduce more characters into a single piece of work. Hard part is finding the balance of how much screen time to give each one.
For shorter works, expect more or less the usuals, wife sharing, cheating, and i’m getting plenty of requests about consensual wife cheating. There’s a difference between this and consensual wife sharing. I’ve been trying to read more into this, it’s not purely about the sex part, the mental stimulation of knowing, and allowing your wife to cheat, adds a layer of excitement into the whole marriage dynamics.
That said, these are best enjoyed if you know how to stay grounded in reality and not get mixed up in a fantasy world. Some things just won’t happen in real life and it’s best to keep it in the fiction world.
Diary of a useless man is more popular than i expected, and i’m beginning to see a pattern in terms of clicks when it comes to the type of stories that engages audience better. Will work on and improve on that.
After i’m done with Jaytheuselessman, i will be introducing a new diary, albeit from that of a female’s perspective. That of a cheating wife. And i happen to have some good user submitted materials for that too.
Ok, that’s all the update i have for this, will probably share a little more come CNY period.
Stay safe all.
James S
Diary update 4/3/26
I wanted to do an update over CNY but just couldn’t find the time to do so. CNY is mentally exhausting. Not sure if you guys feel the same. Not complaining but there is just no CNY vibe in Singapore nowadays.
Across the causeway however, feels like another world. I could hear the excitement in some of my friends voices when they prepare to ‘go home’ in the days leading up to CNY.
Contractors, vendors, a lot of them only head back once or twice a year during festive season. Going home, visiting their parents for CNY can be like an annual affair especially if they don’t stay near Singapore’s border.
One of them will be riding all the way to Perlis from Ang Mo Kio.
Perlis, is about 850km away from Singapore.
Even if you drive, it will take like what, 9 hours at least? He’s going to head back on his motorbike, the same one that sometimes i see carry pvc pipe and work tools. There were no complains though, only excitement in his voices. The once a year journey back home meant he could visit his parents, see his kids and his wife.
Our country is so small, and yet when sometimes i jio my friends for supper with a travel distance of less than 10km, they can say don’t want la, so far away.
Sometimes, the distance is not measured in km, it’s in the willingness to meetup. Maybe as we get older, priorities in life changes.
Back to my CNY period.
Mealtimes during CNY is always an elaborate affair. With my parents getting on in age, i volunteered to help host one of those important meals.
Yes, CNY is filled with important meals. Reunion dinner, reunion lunch, lou hei, and so on. Different food, different time, but one thing is the same. The preparation is a lot of work.
I told my mum to do a scaled down version for reunion dinner, buy less food, if not, we end up with the same problem every year. Trying to fit left overs into the fridge. My parents hardly cook now that it’s just the 2 of them, usually they just grab sometime from the coffee shop. So during the once a year opportunity to really use the kitchen, they will go all out. I literally nagged them not to this year.
Instead of steamboat, we settled on a ‘poon choi’, and a couple of homely dishes the kids like instead of the annual steamboat. The clean up is easier, and we waste less food. That’s one of the important meal settled.
And yours truly, decides to help by hosting one of these ‘important’ meals. I planned the shit out of it, menu, table arrangements, cooking time, cooking sequence. I can cook decent food one ok? Doesn’t matter if the people eating have seen me running around naked and peeing my pants growing up, i want it to be perfect.
It’s one thing to plan, and another to execute. During the execution, one phrase really hit home. A hokkien phrase that goes something like, ‘ Kiang jiu ho, mai kay kiang’ loosely translated to, ‘ smart is enough, don’t act smarter than you really are’.
Or if you don’t have such a big head, don’t wear such a big cap.
I want to prepare a braised duck as the main dish. I seasoned it, i braised it, it’s done, now i need to cut it.
How many of you have cut up a duck before? I mean from scratch. Head, neck, webbed feet, wings and all. I’ve seen it being done on youtube, and i’ve watched my grandmother do it many times when i was growing up.
I remember squatting on the floor of the kampung house in Malaysia, my grandmother will be on a small stool. She will lay newspaper all over like she’s having a small picnic. I like to help her spread them out and put some weight on them so they don’t fly about. With the chopping board in the middle of the newspaper mat, she will begin chopping up the duck.
It looks easy, and i remember talking to her, asking if it’s hard to hold the chopper. Can i try? She will refuse, i was too young and it’s too dangerous. I’ll loiter around until she gave me a duck wing to nibble on. It’s like throwing a dog a bone so he will go away and not bother her. I’ll run off but after a few minutes, i’ll be back to watch her put all the chopped duck into a large pot to be braised while gnawing at the duck wing. I can never seem to get the meat in between the 2 bone of the wing. She will always laugh at my oily mouth, probably thinking i have some IQ problem, got food also don’t know how to eat properly.
I want to recreate that same taste, same recipe for the family.
But first, i have to chop up the damm duck.
When the first cleave hit the flesh, it suddenly dawned on me why my grandmother spread so many newspaper all over.
The juice, the skin, the bits of bone, marinate and whatever the hell is inside a cooked animal, just went all over the kitchen. It’s not just around my work area, my face, my top, and even my coffee machine.
James: arhghh fuck!
You would think after years of watching something, i would have learnt, but no. Deep down, i’m still the boy that cannot get meat out from in between 2 small bone.
It was too late to stop, i need to go on.
I already splattered duck everywhere with the first chop. I’ll need to wipe down the kitchen regardless if i do it in 1 chop, 2 chop or 10.
CHOP!
It’s not easy to portion a duck. Watching it 10 times on youtube thinking you can do it like a pro is like watching F1 and believing you won’t shit your pants when you go from 0 to 200km/h in seconds.
More bits flew around.
My chopper? Not sharp enough.
My aim on the duck? It’s shit.
I don’t dare to hold the duck down too close to the cut point because i’m worried about cutting my fingers off.
So how?
There’s me, holding onto the end tip of a drumstick bone and trying to cleave the duck into 2 sides.
I tried to keep it controlled, but i feel bad for the duck.
By the time i halved it, it looked inedible.
2 came into the kitchen and asked if i’m ok.
2 : do you hate the duck papa?
James: go away la.
She has a point.
The rib looked it it was ripped out by predator, and a large chunk of breast meat is hanging loose. I tried to make myself feel better by thinking the duck must have accumulated some bad karma during it’s previous life. Probably some kidnapper who grab innocent kids and sell their organs. It’s not bad enough it came back as a duck, it had to end up in front of me.
CHOP CHOP CHOP!
The sound of sending heavy steel into flesh and bone, is loud. The splatter, gives me some pretty morbid thoughts. Ideas that i could use in my writing.
I thought of the butcher slicing and cleaving into his opponents, and then i look at the splatter around my kitchen.
Before portioning, i had this grand idea of arranging it nicely on a long white dish. Restaurant standard, but after i was done, the kitchen looked like a warzone. Aside from the drum stick, the wing, the webbed feet and hear, the other parts were not recognisable.
In fact, i won’t blame you if you think they were salvaged from the tray collection point at a hawker centre. The kind that birds don’t even want to peck on.
My wife wasn’t happy. Duck splatter could fly an easy 3m radius. 1’s water bottle had duck skin on it. My wife’s lipton tea box had bits of duck matter clinging to the side. My top had so much splatter that my wife warned me about putting it into the washing machine.
James: then how i wash?
Wife :you hand wash first…
I did my best to arrange the dish, i wanted to take a picture but i forgot. The first thing my dad said when he saw the dish was, what is this?
1 : ah gong, 这个是zombie duck.
Zombie duck or not, the dismembered poultry, passed the taste test.
Taste test only, not visual test. Also not the bone chip test. I think my parents tried their best not to comment about the numerous bone chips they had to keep spitting out.
Thankfully, the rest of the dishes were completed with less drama but that was enough dismembering for the year. I don’t think i will be doing another duck anytime soon.
This year, is also 1’s PSLE year. I could feel her getting a bit stressed out. When she’s stressed, i’m stressed.
Almost every night i’m looking at who’s baking how many cookies, who’s giving away 1/5 of the cookies and who’s selling ¾ of his scones. There’s always someone who could not remember how many apples he had in the beginning before he sold 20 to John. Someone planted some trees, someone cut down some trees, someone bought marbles, someone swallowed marbles. No one can remember how many marbles they had.
It’s no loner good enough to start a composition with, Once upon a time, or on a bright and sunny day…
You no longer get to use 风和日丽. (Bright and sunny day) or you no longer start a composition with once upon a time.
小明 is too easy a name. Don’t use John, Peter, Ali or Raju. Use more complex names, use Wilbert, Constantine, use James.
倾盆大雨 is no longer good enough to describe torrential rain, it has been upgraded to 倾盆爆雨.
In my years as an adult, i don’t remember anyone coming up to me and use these words.
‘Hello James, outside now 倾盆大雨 you know? Bring an umbrella.’
This is Singapore, people ask you about weather, it’s all one or two words one. No one will use 倾盆大雨.
Thunderstorm is thunder storm, we understand this, we also don’t use raging thunderstorm.
We just say, ‘oh, PUB today busy day, sure flood.
And we wonder why our birthrates are dropping.
Can you imagine going through all these national exams again now that you’re an adult?
Work wise, it’s non stop chaos on my end. Don’t want to go too much about it, but there seemed to be a long list of never ending issues that i need to attend to. This also left me with very little time to write lately. I’ve gone days without touching my stories because i’m simply too exhausted at the end of the day to do so.
This doesn’t happen in the past, no matter how tired i am, i could get in a couple of thousand words. Now, by the time i’m done with the day including laundry, housework and other stuff with the family, i just knock out.
I’ve cut back my gym to just once a week, partly to save on cost and i just try to get in more runs now. Running is one of the more economical way to burn some fats. For the year of 2026, i’m getting about 20km per week in slow jogs. It’s therapeutic to just enjoy the view, feel the air in your face. It’s also one of the few moments where i can truly have to myself.
Most of the time, i could only do this on weekends, which meant i’m up at 4.30am on Sat and Sundays. This explains why some of you receives email and replies at 6am in the morning.
I have still a bunch of stories in the works. Still trying to find my footing in 2026 when it comes to managing my time between work and family.
The girls are older now, more independent, but they still demand quite a bit of time and attention on certain matters. The missus is also in a bad mood lately because of work. She’s grumpy, easily irritable, and sometimes, i find it hard to talk to her when she’s in such a state. Just the other day, she sent me a long text message when i was out because she quarreled with 1.
On the only weekday night i get to go to gym, i was bombarded with messages by both of them. Both are angry with the other. By the time i got home, everyone has that glum look on their faces and it was up to me to clean that shit up. Unfortunately, the James in real life is no match for the one in the fantasy world.
There isn’t any magic bullet, or some clever ploy or well timed scenarios to resolve this.
Wife somehow redirected the anger and blame to me, while 1 end up crying herself to sleep.
And i end up staring at the laptop screen while folding the pile of laundry in the living room.
I look at the keyboard, i have some ideas on what to write, i could see the plot and scenes, but my hands were trying to put the padding of my wife’s sports bra back into the bra. Either that or i’m trying to untangle pajamas from laundry bags.
All in all, it’s an exhausting start to 2026 for me, i hope things are better for you guys.
There are no improvement to the site’s takings, traffic and revenue, but it still covers the running costs with leftovers for buffers. Nothing changes, the grind continues. Maybe when the economy gets better, the war stops, the traffic will return.
Will update soon when i can.
James S
Diary entry 14/3/26
I’m writing this update in a coffee shop at 9pm on a Saturday evening. This is not normal, i’m not supposed to be out at 9pm on a Saturday. Weekend evenings are meant for family but i snapped at 1 over some issues. And it was a bad one.
Bad enough for me to know to grab my laptop and just step out of the house.
I don’t want to go into detail, but she did something wrong. I scolded her. Maybe it was a bit too much but it didn’t changed the fact that she did something that crossed a line with me.
I was so angry that i lost all appetite to eat and i practically sent them all to bed. If she wants to cry herself to sleep, so be it.
I end up walking along the neighbourhood aimlessly until i got to a coffee shop. Took a seat, gestured to the beer auntie for a bottle and opened my laptop.
The plan was to escape into another world, craft some nice plots or to expand some of the drafts i have written, but i find myself staring at another family 2 tables away.
It’s rather late to be having dinner for a family with 2 toddlers but there they were. The adults took turn to eat, both toddlers struggling in the baby chair. One moment they were eating, another moment they were trying to climb out. Before the father could eat, someone dropped food, when mummy tried to eat, water spilled. It was none stop chaos, but there were still laughter, albeit a little exhausted.
I smiled as i drank my beer, diluted with ice cubes no less. The auntie didn’t ask, she just wack my beer mug with ice cubes.
A few years ago, i was right there. 2 tables away.
Struggling, exhausted, but looking back, those were some of the best times.
The way my kids smile, call me papa, the way they climb onto me after a long day. It made all the shit i had to go through worth it.
Nowadays, they just do and say things that struck raw nerves.
I get angry easily, and i get angry at myself getting angry. More angry and the original anger because i knew i should not be getting angry. If you don’t get this, it’s fine, because at this point, after jumping in between this diary update and working on other stories and deleting stuff i’ve written, i’m halfway into the 2nd bottle.
Yes, it’s dumb, it’s pointless to drink, it hurts the body. We all know it but sometimes, i just want to numb my mind a little.
Dumb it down so i stop thinking so much.
Sometimes i wonder do all fathers get this exhausted or am i just not cut out to be one?
In the midst of our short quarrel, 1 said;
‘WHAT DO YOU WANT? I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT! LEAVE ME ALONE!’
Walking along the side of the road, i asked myself the same question.
Do i want an apology? For her to admit her mistake? To change her behavior?
She’s entering her teenage phase soon, and we all know how screwed up your mind can get during that period.
I’ve been through it. Do i want to slap my 12-15 year old self? Slap is an understatement, i want to fucking pummel myself into the ground when i look back at those years.
Can i then, really blame 1 for behaving this way?
My parents don’t know shit about mental health, about emotional support. Maybe your parents are like mine too, and you just got to figure shit out on your own or something, but i know about these stuff. I’m educated, i read, i may be a bit deranged, but i know what makes good parenting.
Knowing and being able to execute it however, is two different thing.
I knew 1 needed a father that is the total opposite of what her grandfather was to me at that age. And yet, i find myself unable to step up to the role. Something is stopping me from doing it, i don’t know what, but i just want to distance myself away from everyone lately.
It’s the dreaded mid life crisis it seems.
Halfway into the grave, and waking up one day and just feeling lost.
As i sip my beer, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. My daughter needed me, and yet I had fled, unable to be the father she deserved. How could I expect her to grow and thrive when I myself was struggling to keep my head above water?
The family 2 tables away were getting ready to leave. The kids were tired, they were whining, they want to go home. I had been there once, reveling in the chaos and beauty of parenthood. But somewhere along the way, I had lost that spark, that sense of wonder at the privilege of guiding a young life.
My daughter was counting on me, even if she couldn’t articulate it. She needed a father who could weather the storms, not one who ran at the first sign of trouble.
Honestly, i don’t know what i’m doing anymore.
I never ordered the 3rd bottle, but the auntie brought one over after filling my glass.
I paid her for it.
I looked at my phone, 2 sent me a message, asking if i’m ok.
My wife wants to know where i was.
I stared at the whatsapp and looked at 1’s name.
I find myself waiting for her to message me.
She’s online, i can see it.
She could probably see me too.
Working through the sequence of event earlier, i knew i was not wrong to get upset. However, i might have over reacted.
i composed a message but i did not send it and i hated myself for it. I’m not a wishy washy person, but i find myself doubting myself at things like this.
I eventually finished the last of my beer and packed up my laptop because i ran out of battery. My 2021 surface laptop is running on fumes as it is. It barely last more than an hour on it’s battery.
The lights start to go off at one section of the coffee shop. Most patrons left, except for the tables of old men nursing their tiger beer.
The walk home was quiet. No rain, no drama. I can still walk straight.
When I opened the door, the house was dark, except the kitchen.
Everyone had already gone to bed.
The kitchen light was on, as if someone had left it for me, a quiet olive branch in the gloom.
For reasons only known to the universe, i leaned against the kitchen cabinet and sat down on the kitchen floor. I realised after moving in for so long, that must probably be the first time i sat on the kitchen floor.
There was a part of me that wanted to walk down the hallway, open her bedroom door, and apologise, not for the discipline, but for the way I wielded it.
For the fact that I sometimes used my own exhaustion as an excuse to take shortcuts with her feelings. But there was another part of me, a much larger and more stubborn part, that wanted to let it all slide into the next day, let time do the smoothing, let distance do the healing.
James : you’re a fucking coward…
I said to myself in the kitchen because i realised that was what i truly was then.
A coward.
I plugged in my laptop in the living room to try and escape again into one of the world i created but i couldn’t.
Tomorrow would be a new day. And that was the problem. Tomorrow meant deciding whether to bring this up again or pretend it never happened. To force the wound open and clean it properly, or to slap a plaster over it and hope it didn’t fester.
I was not built for these choices. I had inherited my father’s toolkit of silence and avoidance. Typical Asian fathers perhaps?
I told myself I was better, more enlightened, more attuned to the nuances of modern parenthood. But when faced with the actual moment of reckoning, I stalled out and defaulted to the same old scripts.
I looked at how much i have written for the diary entry and i was a little surprised. Alcohol does work wonders sometime.
I don’t know which one I want more, to fucking fix it, or to let it fade away.
I thought about all the advice and articles I’d read, all the parenting books. I thought about how easy it was to give advice to strangers, and how impossibly hard it was to follow it in your own life. I thought about how 1 was probably lying awake in her own room, replaying the shouting match in her head, wondering if this was what growing up was supposed to feel like. Maybe she wonders if she will do that to her kids next time.
Maybe it’s not that I don’t want to talk about it.
I just don’t have the courage to.
I sighed heavily, took a deep breath and walked to 1’s room.
She’s knocked out.
I sat down on the bed, pull the blanket over her and arranged her favourite soft toy closer to her grasp.
I brushed her hair aside and just look at her in the dark.
I’ve done this countless times, from when she was an infant, to a toddler, to a young adult. I don’t know how long more i could do this without it being weird.
Eventually it gets to a point where it’s weird just to stare at your kids sleep right?
If my mother stare at me sleep, i sure will say ‘siao ah?’
I whispered my apology, picked up the bolster from the floor and placed it back where it was supposed to be.
I should have been more understanding. Growing up in 2026, is different from growing up in 1996.
I shut the door and went over to 2’s room. She too is asleep and i did the same for her, spending some time watching her sleep.
Another day, gone, never to return. I may not score high on the parenting board today but everyone is safe, they’re fed, they have a bed to sleep in. It’ll be too much if i say i deserve an ‘F’. I’ll gladly accept an ‘E’.
I have a bit more time to work on that ‘A’. And if you, like me, is trying to work your way up from ‘E’ or ‘F’, do it. Because in a few more years, when they fly the coop, he noise that once exhausted you will become silence you never asked for.
One day, the house will stay clean longer than you like. Dinner will be quiet. No one will call out for you from another room.
I know la, fuck, we don’t get graded at the end for being perfect parents.
We get remembered for being there, even when we didn’t get it right.
James S