My Piano Man

A little story with the title: “A little pool of melted Wendy, episode number 213.567.843 (and counting): The one where she just came back from Germany”
Picture it, Leiderdorp, 2 december 2017, late morning. Oldest son calling. “Mamacito, Nina and I will be arriving shortly.”
I am a mamacito, which I think is about the highest honour I can receive as the mother of an eldest son who has already got one foot out of the door partly because of his deep love for Nina.
Picture it, Leiderdorp, 2 december 2017, lunchtime. Standing alongside the soccer field watching your youngest. Hearing some fathers and mothers of the other team talking amongst each other: “They do have a very good goalkeeper though.”
And that that goalkeeper happens to be your son. Wow.
Seeing my old father, his old grandfather, enduring the cold as an elderly to watch his grandson playing soccer each and every week no matter what, was priceless.
Picture it, Leiderdorp, 2 december 2017, dinner time. The youngest son prepares the chicken tandoori meal alone, all by himself. I am just there to be close to him. Keeping him company. He kooks for us because he enjoys that immensely. Being only 10 years old.
Picture it, Leiderdorp, 2 december 2017, after dinner. Just the three of us. Me, my middle and my youngest. We are looking up songs on YouTube to show each other our favorite songs. We didn’t even clear the table yet.
Picture it, Leiderdorp, 2 december 2017. Watching my amazing, beautiful, sometimes troubled, middle one singing each and every word to the following song. He’s in tune and on tone and his voice is beautiful. And I am moved to tears. This is his all time favorite as a 12 year old. No wonder his idiot math teacher doesn’t get him! But he is excused. Hardly anyone truly does get him.

….Clickable link you guys……

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