"Mami... why don't you like me?"

Its the 5th consecutive day of EggEgg's explosive diarrhoea. After days and nights of disinfecting the toilet, changing bedsheets at midnight, soaking and bleaching soiled clothes, mopping up vomits ... this very morning EggEgg did it again.

There's shit all around the toilet rim, an entire roll of tissue chucked into the bowl carelessly, and more soiled pants. To make matters worse, I administered the medicine to him, he spit it out on the floor and onto his clothes. That is truly the last straw that broke the camel 's back.

I yelled at him, "Go to your room now, and I don't want to see your face for the rest of the day!"

I stormed out into the garden, with Cola following closely behind.

I started to vent out my frustrations on the soil. Digging trench after trench, hole after hole, aimlessly attacking the soil. The daily monotonousness of running a household is overwhelming my senses. The endless loads of laundry, the floor that is constantly dirty no matter how often I mop and vacuum, the mountain loads of dishes and never seem to finish. With each shovel full of soil, I dug my heart out from the depths of frustration.

EggEgg crept slowly into the garden and suddenly I realised he is standing behind me.

"Hey go away! I told you to stay away from me today, can't you hear me?

"Why do I have to go away?" EggEgg pleaded.

"Because i don't like you!"

"Mami... why don't you like me?"

"Because..."

There are tens of reasons why I dislike this little boy who's standing in front of me:

Because... he is a sickly child, catching all kinds of flu and coughs and eczema and he reminds me too much of myself of what I used to be.

Because... he's a slow learner that takes up all my patience and effort in teaching him. He was slow in talking, slow in understanding, slow in observing. And if I were cruel, I would label him "stupid"

Because... he is a whinger, a crybaby who cries when he wakes up, cries when he has to go to bed, cries when he wants a drink, cries when he gets seated in the highchair/carseat/potty, cries when he wakes up... after 3 years of hearing him cry at least 5 rounds a day, that totals up to 5000 times I've heard his awful whinging crying voice. I hate it hate it hate it.

Because... he's not cute, because he's not funny, because he's demanding... there are lots of reasons why I do not prefer his company.

After considering the right words, I told EggEgg plainly,

"Because you didn't listen to me and spit out the medicine. Now go away!"

Sending him away is actually for his own protection. It prevents me from hurting him any more with words or action.

After an hour of venting out in the garden, with Cola lifting my mood with his smiles and clumsy digging, I went back into the house. Cold silence hung in the air.

I couldn't find EggEgg in the playroom, nor his bedroom, nor my bedroom.

Then out of the corner of my eyes, I saw him curled up on the rocker, holding his Mickey Mouse. Weeping without a sound; his heart is broken.

And how can you mend a broken heart? 

How can you stop the rain from falling down? 

(Bee Gees - "How Can You Mend A Broken Heart")