DAY 74: La-di-da

I often find myself bending over backwards to get my child out of bed in the morning.  Despite all our alarms bellowing simultaneously at 6:30am, my son remains fixed to his mattress, cold-shouldering the “wake-up" calls.

As the minutes tick by, without any sign of acknowledgement, I resort to an antagonistic round of yelling and screaming, often succumbing to the extreme of death threats – hoping to achieve the impossible.

While the acts of desperation encourage me to tear the blankets off the bed and pull my son by his feet – a screaming match ensues while my anger has set the tone for another moody day at work.

I spent the first part of my day searching cyberspace for a “Parental Support Line.”  Unfortunately, the morning’s ‘tug-of-war’ episode tempted me to a slice of my wife’s red velvet cake – a sugar-rush of calories that calmed the nerves and sent the diet on an apocalyptic mission.

I’ve tried to convince myself that my son’s carefree “Hakuna Matata” or “La-di-da” antics are a sentence passed from the Almighty, punishing me for my attitude towards my own parents (back in the 1980s).  But as a responsible adult, eager to demonstrate my parenting skills, I find myself agitated by the oblivious nature shown by children of this new millennium.

The infuriating morning regime encourages the malevolent side of my character to threaten the peace within the home.  After a rushed serving of cereal and toast, we embark on our voyage to the school – my son listening to a stern lecture on attitude and principles as I brief him on the “rules of conduct”; the mute button on the radio has silenced any hint of background music, but my son continues to hum the tune of New Direction’s “One way or another…” as I continue to reprimand him. 

Disembarking from the vehicle, he casually strides into the school grounds; I observe a few moments of silence, working anxiously on my breathing exercises, searching for some sanity.  My body robotically starts the car, steering me back on the road as I head off to the workplace. 

Greeted by a disheartened group of colleagues, I am reminded, yet again, of the economic conflict encumbering the nation; it’s almost the middle of the month and salaries remain unpaid.  I attempt to address my pending issues on the computer, but one is compelled to research the social media sites for any slight hint of hopefulness; it seems the entire world continues to scrutinise the Cypriot bailout, and the way with which the ‘new’ government is handling the crisis.

Perhaps my son’s “La-di-da” approach could cure my disorders; a carefree attitude will certainly stimulate outdoor activity, thereby limiting my offensive food intake. Mastering the art of ignorance would also allow me to turn a blind eye to all the unfortunate circumstances surrounding my political world. 

It seems that the student has become the master.

Weight for me tomorrow. Paul

Paul Lambis is the author of “Where is Home?” – A journey of hilarious contrasts. 
For more information on Paul Lambis, and to order his book online,
visit www.paul-lambis.com