A CHILD'S STORY

I THINK I have been so passionate with this fatherhood thing (can't blame me, it's normal) that I tasked myself to write a longer essay about it. But what I got instead is a brief story for children. So here it is...

I LOVE SUNDAY!

I LOVE SUNDAY very much. Daddy is around the house. He cooks for our breakfast, especially my favorite, egg omelet with fried bacon. He plays computer games with me. He horses around with Mimi, my younger sister. He fixes Kuya Boyet’s bike. He does home chores while Mom goes to market. Sometimes Dad takes us out for lunch to a nearby fastfood. Or he leads us to a children’s park to play. Or he brings us to cinema for the latest kiddie flick. Mom is so glad seeing us happy with Dad.

That is why I learn to hate those days when Dad stays long in the office. He stays there until late at night. He no longer reads me bedtime stories as before. If I have a test the next day, he does not even go home early for my review. Dad will just ask Mom to do it for him. When I happen to be awake when he goes home, he will just kiss me good night and tell me to go back to bed at once.

“Dad is doing overtime work. He will be tired when he goes home,” Mom explains. I want to complain but I don’t know how to say it. Kuya Boyet does not mind, because he is old enough. Mimi doesn’t seem to care either.

But when Sunday comes, I forget everything. Then I love Dad again. 


ONE SUNDAY, Dad did not bring us out as before. We didn’t even attend the mass. We just played around the house. But he got tired easily. He took a long nap in the afternoon. In the evening, he told us the usual bedtime stories. Before he kissed me good night, he hugged me tightly, patted my back and ruffled my hair. And I loved him for doing that.

Monday, the next morning, Dad did not go to work. He was the one who helped me dress up for school. He even fetched me from school on time. Then we played computer games together.

The next day, Dad did not go to work again. So with the next day and the next day. The next Sunday was just another day. He was at the house, cooking for our breakfast, doing home chores and playing games with us. But we did not go out as before. Except in the afternoon where we attended the mass. For the first time I saw Dad praying so deeply in the pew. 

Dad was unusually silent after his time with us. He had long and hush-hush discussion with Mom. Mom was also affected with this Dad's strange mood.

Is he sick? Why does he easily get tired? I asked Mom about it. With a deep sigh, Mom looked at me straight in the eye. Then she hugged me tightly.

“Your Dad has lost his job. The company is losing money, so his boss must let your Dad and other workers go.” I couldn’t understand what does that mean. But I knew Dad was badly affected.

I cannot be happy when Dad is not happy. So I prayed like the way Dad did in the church. It was a deep and long prayer. I asked God to tell my Dad’s boss that he will ask Dad to return to work soon.

After a week, Dad went out the house, like he used to when he had a job. He was dressed at his best, bringing with him only a thin folder when he went out. He did it almost everyday. And on a Sunday, Dad was back to his usual self. But even so, I was so glad being with him again over the weekend. But now, I no longer hated Mondays and the long weekdays as before. Sunday with Dad was enough for me.

One afternoon, Dad went home shouting with joy. He kissed and hugged me tightly. He danced with Mimi. He had a high five with Kuya Boyet. And he embraced Mom so tightly until I saw Mom laughing with tears in her eyes.

“Dad has got a new job!” Mom announced.

I ALWAYS love Sunday. And I no longer mind if I could not see Dad before I sleep on weekdays. Because on a Sunday, it will be the day for me with Dad and Mom, and also for Kuya Boyet and Mimi. And every holiday means a looong Sunday for all of us!