“Daddy, I’m missing something,” my son spoke softly, gesturing for me to look at his legs. I lowered my head — and my jaw instantly dropped. He had failed to wear one of his shoes! No wonder he had been limping throughout our rush to the bus stop.

A scowl appeared on my face, darkening my handsome features. He had been struggling to wake up this week, no doubt thanks to the accumulated fatigue of the school term, but to stagger out of the house without his shoe was unacceptable!

There was no time to waste. I hurried back home, growling like a trapped animal. Grabbed the shoe at home and dashed out again. Made it to the bus stop. Okay, things weren’t so dire. We just missed one bus.

Here’s the part where my parenting skills set myself apart from my peers. Upon reaching school, I nonchalantly took out a book of Chinese idioms, fed him bread and got him to read 火冒三丈 (😡） after me. Leveraging my anger into a teachable moment. Got him to repeat three times for good measure.

I’m so shagged from the assault of life, but Sensei still teaches in an exemplary way.