KK works late three nights in a row.
Three nights, we don’t hear the loud click of the door lock turning at 7pm and the kids don’t have the sturdy pair of arms to run into, squealing “papa”!
Each time KK has to stay back, he tells me almost apologetically and I respond: “OK”.
Home alone with the kids doesn’t faze me anymore.
But one of us cracks.
The second of KK’s late nights, I tuck Day in bed. As I pass by his room door on yet another thankless errand the girls send me on, I hear quiet sobbing.
The boy is lying face down on the bed, legs clamped tightly together, arms crossed under his face.
I go over to him: What are you thinking about, Day?
He looks up, mucus running, eyes red and streaming with tears. “Papa… I miss papa,” he squeaks.
KK tucks Day into bed every night. The talk man-to-man in the dark. They play games on the iPhone. They sleep next to each other until Day goes down, which usually takes all of five minutes.
That’s why he misses his papa.
KK, on his return home, kisses the kids and turns to me: “I hate working late. I miss my kids.”
3 comments:
That is so sweet, it really shows how much K is involved with the kids for Day to say that. Well at least it seems like the late hours doesn't happen all that often? There's this work-life balance thingee I keep hearing about..
a good responsible and hands-on dad he is! he will live life with no regrets.
not sure if I'm a cry baby or that your blogs are always so heart warming.
I sincerely wish the great work-life balance we have experienced in Australia and to a certain extent in London will take off in Singapore. The number of poor children who, like Day, yearn for their parents in SIngapore just breaks my heart.
p/s: Shermaine, you played at our church wedding and now Cyp and I are expecting our first baby. We can't wait.
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