I was rebuked by my son yesterday. Why do I keep asking the same questions, he said: Don’t I listen to what he is saying?
We were chatting on the Net when I asked him about a college project he said he had to complete this week. "I won’t tell you," he said. "I have told you so many times. Don’t you listen to what I am saying?"
He sounded annoyed: we were having a voice conversation on the MSN Messenger.
I was suitably chastened. Yes, he had told me before, I recalled, when he finally relented and repeated what the project was about.
I was typing out his reply so I won’t have to ask him again, but he didn’t like that either. "You don’t have to type it out," he said when he heard me clicking away on the keyboard.
Clearly he was miffed. He had every reason to be. My forgetfulness might have seemed like carelessness to him — or, even worse, indifference. Here I am in Singapore while he is thousands of miles away in the USA, and the least I can do is think of him and listen to him. How can I forget what he tells me?
Actually, I do listen and think of you very often, my son. I can still hear those words: "Don’t you listen to what I am saying?"
I look forward to our chats and am feeling low we won’t be able to do so today. He will be working with others at the time we usually chat and couldn’t say when he would be free.
But maybe we will tomorrow.
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