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We parents tend to be overconfident of reading our kids' thoughts such as what they think of, what's eating on them, and so on. Of course, I, as a father having two kids, am not an exception to that preconception.
Regretably, however, an unexpected event surrounding my daughter made me awake from the illusion. A month ago late afternoon, I received a text message from my wife "I have something to tell you about our daughter. Why don't you see me at the park near our house around at 7 p.m.?" After doing my business, I went toward the appointed place thinking of all kinds of assumption.
"What's up?" Sitting on the park bench, I broke silence in a bit solemn way.
"Well, I have felt somewhat deceived at our daughter's behavior" she said with the expression of having some doubts.
"She's got a boyfriend or what?"
"No." She returned in a strong tone.
Her story runs like this:
My daughter in the third year of a middle school was goofing around home after lunch. The swine flu had made the school closed for three days, on the last day of which my wife was supposed to meet with my girl's teacher as part of a periodic talks. The moment she got out of home in the late afternoon, my kid suggested going outside together with a request to put her electronic dictionary in mom's purse for a moment. Her school was just 15 minutes away from my house on foot. Approaching the school, my daughter, waving goodbye to her mom, hurried to head for her destination without taking out the dictionary in the purse. As soon as my wife came back home, my kid asked her to return the dictionary. She handed it over unwittingly.
"Guess what happened?" she talked to me like giving a puzzle.
"Well..." I just stared her in the face.
"Listen! She seemed to fiddle around with the electronic dictionary, and then familiar voice began pouring out of its tiny speaker! It were the very talks between her teacher and me." Her accent sounded a bit strained.
"Only then, I figured out why she had not taken the dictionary parting from me in front of the school." She looked like a monkey whose self-esteem was damaged and felt perplexed after falling from a tree.
"Really? Unbelievable! How could she create such a wonderful... wait!... such a weird idea? Was there such a recording function in that electronic dictionary?" Hearing the story like showing up at spy movies, I didn't know of what the hell to respond to her any longer.
Meanwhile, I was agape at my girl's plot, wondering why she had designed such an elaborate thing. As we, unlike other parents, had respected her own discretion with regard to her daily routines including studying, she must have doubted our inner thoughts on her. By the way, what if her teacher knew of being eavesdropped on their conversations from his loved pupil? Alas! Just thought of it made me shudder.
Anyway, Fortune smiled upon us. The result went against her imaginations. No bad mouth on her could be found. My daughter only confirmed mom's trust in her through the plain voice coming out of the dictionary utilized as bugging. She clearly saw through our thoughts of expecting her to grow brightly and well, though her school grades had not met our expectations.
Relived, we struck for home at about 9 p.m. By the time we reached, an unexpected present was ready to greet us. "Sorry, but thank you for loving me. You have brought me up well." My daughter laughed away her tears. I talked to myself, "You're welcome. Someday, you'll realize it is you, not us, that has raised you. We'll probably not have changed, if any, it'll be you."
A month later now. thanks to the failed plot, my daughter is changing little by little. She appears to be no longer what she used to be. She is spending more time reading than before, not to mention planning her daily plans for studying by herself, rarely to be seen before. I don't know how long it will last. Bringing to mind the old saying 'better late than never', my wife and I just appreciate that we can see my kid cultivate her life on her own. By the way, who could have thought that eavesdropping would be of benefit to my family?