Boy was born to my friend, K, mere days after my gym membership ran out. At the age of three weeks, he’s the best boy I know apart from my two brothers and Jay Chou because he smiles a small baby’s smile in my arms. Because he doesn’t cry when I sing a Faye Wong song to him – he is all straight-faced and serious. He is long and one day he will be tall, taller than me. He has as much hair as Rain – or Elvis, to the age bracket to which Rain still means shower. He is better-looking than Rain. He is so new to the thing you and I call life, every breath is an event. Events I follow when he is sound asleep. I like looking at him when he takes a bigger gulp of air than usual and all of him quakes as the air fills his lungs, forces his ribs out and up, then flows down to his toes. When he is wide awake, he is my new trainer.Like last weekend, when we did weight training (Boy-lifting as his mum lunched), running (Boy-lifting-and-jogging as he didn’t like me sitting on my arse) and Boyrobics (Boy-lifting-and-leaning-from-side-to-side to rock him to sleep). He is no featherweight; my arms were aching after a couple hours. If I was in the gym, I would have put down the weights and gone home light years ago. But Boy is unputdownable. When he was in my arms, I didn’t want him out of them; when he was in his gran’s arms, I wanted him back in mine.
He’s small but his life is large with possibility. It is why I want to hold him. It is what weighs my arms down.
3 comments:
Remember one of the last episodes of Sex and the City? Miranda's housekeeper tells her, "You know love. You love."
You know love. You love.
That has always been the best thing about you. Mr Karen Jr is lucky to have you in his life. ;)
that's the sweetest thing i have been told for weeks, maybe months. up there with being told i am a world-crass ktv singer.
seriously. thanks. i want you to be right.
Ms ww, I have a Ju you can use as a weight when you want also. Hehe!
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