Alan, Angel and I fell asleep watching the TV in the living room. We still have Angel’s little playground laid out, which we know will soon disappear when we finally “install” his new playpen (more like a cage) there in the middle. He has grown so agile that he can now scale any obstacle and he climbs everything that he can pull himself up from with ease and speed. It’s just not safe nor prudent to leave him there despite all the fortification mom has employed.
I woke up just after 4AM and now I’m wide awake. I’m transferring Angel here to the bedroom soon, but I somehow felt the urge to do an early morning Easter Sunday post here on my blog. (Blog addicted? I heard it can be unshakable for some!)
I’m trying to reload my phonecard. I’m not quite sure yet if I will accede to my Dad’s request for me to call him. Now don’t get me wrong, I miss my Dad. I really do. I know I could call him every week if I wanted to. But I don’t. The conversation can go wrong in so many ways. He sometimes asks for the pettiest of things, and what is worse, he often embarks on a rant about how he feels my Mom has been undermining him while playing deaf or blind to the antics of his second wife. (Wife is too high a status to accord to the woman who simply shares his bed.)
The poor man hasn’t got the slightest idea that the very person he villifies might just be the only woman who truly loved him ever in this lifetime.
So I stay away as much as I can.. or at least I try. Who knows? I just might call him later.