Wednesday, November 17

The Ultimate Pat

A lad called Pat needs extra attention. Especially if he has Dyslexia.
A child called Pat needs extra graces. Especially if he hates bath.
A kid called Pat needs extra refinement. Especially if he’s eating like a pig.
A teen called Pat needs extra polishing. Especially if his mouth says the wrong things.
A son called Pat needs extra patience. Especially if he is Pat.

Pat, my ultimate son. I’m practically his mother in the background. Not that Mom and Aks aren't there for him. They are. It's just he needs extra more because he's Pat. (No offence, Pat. You're just a bit too reliant on people.) The little things I do make me look like a martyr but hey! Somebody’s gotta do it. That’s the job of a Piscean.

I went to Divisoria last month shopping for sewing supplies. While walking a busy banquetta, I spotted an old lady screaming at the top of her lungs that briefs were cheap. The price seemed right and I remembered Pat said he needed briefs. So I bought some. “Manang, dalawa nga.” I pointed to the gray ones and she placed then on the plastic bag. She handed me the plastic saying, “Ayan Missis, para sa anak mo.”
What the heck! I played along. “Para sa anak ko.”

As for his dyslexia, it comes with a certain hyper-ness disorder. You can’t give him coffee. We gave him a treat to Starbuck once since it was break. The result, he won’t stop talking the whole night. He’s even literally bouncing off the walls. His knees won’t stop shaking and he’ll laugh at himself and annoy you ‘til you go as crazy as he is.

As for his mouth, it won’t stop talking with or without caffeine. He says the darnest things too. This was the conversation that took place one bright evening at the dinning room:
“I think I’m growing old.” She says looking at the mirror while pointing at her white hairs.
Pat comes and pats mom’s shoulders. “It’s ok mom, God loves you anyways.”
“Oh! You mean to say I look ugly and old?” Mom said outraged.
“No ma, It’s ok. God made you that way. I love you anyways.” He said frankly.
Mom sobs and Pat comforts her by saying more that God made her that way. "It must be true!" Mom dramatically wails.
Oh Pat… You need to know when to say the right things at the right time. They may be good but not at the right time. They may have good intention but they sure don’t sound nice. You also need to know when to make bola-bola --> Especially when it comes to Mom.

Bath time for Pat is the most annoying time of the day. You have to tell him a hundred times and force him in the bathroom yourself. Once a week, I give him a facial plus a head scrubbing. It’s not as easy as you can imagine. We have six cats and they are easier to give a bath. As for Pat, he’d scream as if he was drowning. He thinks of the craziest excuses to NOT take a bath. For him BATH is the scariest time of the day. And if you can force him to take a bath, you have to stand by the door and assure him you’re still there and no monster’s gonna attack him while he’s taking a bath.

Mind you, Pat’s fourteen already.

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