I was in the kitchen preparing dinner when I heard pitter-patter, the running feet of my then 20-month-old. I was at the wok, frying up some really yummy pork steaks (sorry, non-halal); the smell was heavenly, but the oil splats were threatening to give me chicken-pox spots.
QQ stood at the ledge, held on to one side of the door frame, and gingerly stepped into the kitchen. She pulled my shorts and excitedly requested: “Mama, come and see!”
I was reluctant to leave my wokful of delicious aromatic pork steaks at that moment for the fear of over-cooking it. I wouldn’t want to dish them up just yet, as they’re really not fully cooked yet.
She repeated her request and pulled me even harder. I quickly turned off the stove, covered the wok and followed her. She was now holding my hand and pulling me towards the front glass door.
“ See, mama, rain coming.”
Sure enough, large drops of rain started pelting down the street, our pathway, and the roof our house. It was a rhythmic toop toop toop toop sound.
She announced a newly learnt word, which I did not realized she even knew.
I looked at her. She wore a face of fascination, excitement. She is like a curious sponge soaking in every detail of what laid before her. The sound of thunder and raindrops, the smell of rain, the feel of the breeze, the sight. She looked so freshly absorbent, if there’s such a term. And I found her attraction to such a simple phenomenon as rain, appealing. It reminds me of youth. It brings me back to the days where I had time to stand at my house verandah and enjoy the rain. While building castles in the air. Her fascination made me stop and start appreciating little things in life.
Upon catching sight of few neighborhood kids venturing out on the street, all sharing an umbrella, my little girl said: "Take um-beh-ra. Go home lo"
But no, these kids weren’t going home. They were coming out to play in the rain; laughing and skipping in puddles, while trying to juggle an umbrella between them. Soon enough, the umbrella slipped from their little hands and was left forgotten in the puddle. They sounded as if there’s not a care in the world.
I suddenly had a thought, albeit irresponsible, I want my children to enjoy the joys of rain, to feel carefree, splashing in puddles, getting wet, like the children that we saw on the street. Yes, one day, when they are old enough.
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