The Struggle of a Child
Ill
"Liyan, are you satisfied or haven't played?" ask mommy to come back on the rickshaw.
"Already Ma'am," I answered hiding the truth in my heart if I was not satisfied playing it.
"Mmm, this is a good child" our mother said, praising me with a bit of insinuation for my sister.
I got off the rickshaw that had stopped.
"Be careful descending! Don't hurry," said my father. Marginalizing her tricycles right up to the wall of my uwaku house.
"Consideration of this rickshaw is broken. Is it good?" my mother asked, suddenly remembering. Get off the rickshaw.
"Ooh, yes, Dad. 'And yesterday Dad picked us up at school on a rickshaw" my sister said directly. Carrying the doll and her BP child down from the rickshaw.
I stood and saw my brother and father.
"Good rickshaw is delicious, Dad," I hooked this lip up to look sweet.
"Yes Dad. How many things I see" said my sister with a face that was happy to tell about it.
"Oh, yes. So, you guys love riding it," my dad repeated what my sister said. "There's this Father's Son. If the boy's happy to ride in the car. It's even riding a rickshaw, hahaha !" my father continued with a laugh.
"Your son used to live a simple life. Even at home there is no tv until now this person is happy, miss, miss, miss!" said my mom chuckled.
"Father's money isn't there. Yeah, isn't it, Dad?" I said ask my father a question.
My father immediately quietly pulled his lips knotted.
"I am grateful to have a child like those who know themselves by the condition of their parents" my father replied. I rubbed both of our heads.
"But then we'll have tv, won't we?" my sister asked. Glanced at my father who stroked his head. He was followed by his right hand hand handing over the BP child's toy to my hand.
"Whoa. That's it, just proud. You're lucky your son is a kid. All they need right now is one, pocket money. Hihihi!" my mother said, laughing, hearing my father's words. "That's just bullshit. If your two daughters don't want to go along with the others. That's lies. No child wants to live like this!" repelled.
My father looked at us both with sadness.
"But I believe in my two daughters" said my father. Rotating body shut the pedicab. "Every parent should know about his two children" he continued tidying up the rickshaw cover.
"That's bullshit, hahaha !" Any child who wants to show their parents' difficult life. I'm ashamed to tell my friends that my husband is a paddle pedicab bearer, hiks. Embarrassing," he said with a spicy to make my father lethargic.
It seemed that my father was so stunned to hear the honesty of his wife's mouth.
"Dad but we are not ashamed" I replied straightforwardly.
My father just silently turned his body around and raised a warm smile in front of us.
"Son, I am happy too" answered my father, expelling the pain in his heart. He held both my hands and my sister tightly.
Staring straight ahead with a million sorrows in his eyes. He kept on drawing a smile to cover his grief.
"Just it . If your two sons defend you. Because you're his parents," my mother told us scathingly. Anyway, you're very lucky. I really praise you. Having a child who is still small and very confident in their speech," said the mother continued us with satisfaction.
My father kept walking down the late night road. The night wind that was blowing increasingly cold as if it was wiping away the traces of steps and a grievous heart.
"The wind is cold" I said. Glancing at my father while holding this lip firmly. Walked.
"Dad, I'm sleepy" said my sister. Looking at my father while his left hand holds his BP doll and son.
"Nobody whines because of sleepiness. Later the reason is not able to walk, can not see and many times later your reason," he continued.
"If they are sleepy. The one who carried it was me" my father replied gently. Walked.
"But the boy can't stay in the cradle. They will be lazy to walk. That's why your son always asks for a sling! Because you're used to it," she was furious at hearing her husband's reasoning. He turned his lips to the left as a gesture to my sister.
The cold saw the road carefully. While my sleepy sister was heard singing a little. Seeing her doll that she often hugged while sleeping.
"So it's off, Dad," said my sister with a wailing face.
"Where's it going, son?" ask my father in a patient voice.
"Father flip flops I throw away, Yes," I hope by looking at my father gently.
"Sendals that break up do not need to be asked. Throw it!" my mother's reply immediately cut off my words.
"Why, Dad?" my many.
"Your father wants to keep it," cut my mother.
"Why can't you throw it away?" ask me to come back to want to know. Glancing at my mother who folded her hands over her chest, followed by a hand bag hanging in the folds of her hands.
"That can still be fixed, son," replied my father. Raising my head to see me, followed by his hands pairing my sister's shoes.
" It's been, Dad, ' said my sister spontaneously.
"Still loose?" ask dad.
" No, Dad," replied my sister.
"Both not loose?" ask my dad to come back.
" Yes, Dad," my sister replied briefly.
"That's your brother's shoe is a little big from you because your feet are not the same size" my father explained.
"Eat him, wear those nice slippers. Don't squint," between my mother and I.
I was getting quiet to set up a move that was very difficult and uncomfortable for me. The broken flip-flops made my knee even more painful due to the leg being too difficult to drag the severed sandal.
"Dad, my legs hurt," I whined. Walking limping dragging sandals.
" Liyan, if it hurts. Just open your sandals!" exclaimed my mother. "Mother is afraid to see you. Walking like a terminally ill person," he said in a suppressive tone of voice.
"Indeed Brother's sick," my sister replied directly. "Well, isn't it Dad?" asked my father.
"Liyan, which leg is sick?" ask my father directly.
"It wasn't Dad, it was" I answered hiding the truth.
"So which one?" my father asked, more astonished.
"This, Dad," I replied. Taking a step of my left foot forward as a gesture to tell my father.
"Oooh, so, that," replied my father directly.
"Later at home in Liyan's repair," my mother told me. Stop opening the door as if mocking my father.
"Father tomorrow I buy new sandals, yes Father," my sister hoped with a wail.
Jeglex!
The door also fell. "No one talks about sandals anymore. Wash your feet, wash your face and wash your hands. Then sleep!" exclaimed my mother.
"Son, go to sleep now. You guys must be tired, right?" ask dad. Crouching open my sister's shoes.
"But, Dad. We want to give you... ." I immediately closed my mouth when the look in my eyes accidentally met the look in my mother's eyes that sniffed to see me.
"What do you want, son?" ask dad.
"No, yes," I replied directly. Shy humbling.
"You play Father," my sister continued straightforwardly. Glanced at me like my sister knew what I wanted to say was play.
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Seriate...
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