I talk of grand plans. Of achieving the world, winning the world, conquering the world. Well, okay, not really. Completely forgot for a moment there that I wasn’t Caesar. But at least, of travelling the world. Of seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, feeling a good chunk of it, while I’m still on it. But nothing, nothing can ever compare to seeing my parents, to see them smile, frown, laugh, raise eyebrows. To hear them talk, scold, joke, raise voices. To hug them & kiss them, hold Mum’s hand and pat Dad’s tummy. Even if it means now and again there’d be arguments, err… I mean, disagreement. For it’s unlikely that they will ever stop pressuring, nor will I ever stop rebelling. For they’re the parents and I the first born. It’s our job, isn’t it, to uphold stereotypes? 😉
So I made a pact with myself, to stop by and see them every time I go on a major trip. Even if only for a short time. And frankly, short times are often sweeter, before we run out of patience for each other. I have done that the last few times (twice to China & once to the US), and will try my best to keep it up. How’s that for the best plan of the year, hey?