Learning to Be a Mother

36. Later Salah Majors.

"Fathan's still a test at home huh, Ma?"

My head is mangled, Fathan still has to do his exams at home. From what I remember after my meeting with Ms. Irma, my first child was suspended for the next three days. Yes, from Tuesday to Thursday.

Here we are, on Wednesday, flooded with rain in the morning. It's much colder, I haven't dared to take a shower for fear of being cold again like yesterday. Not to mention the corner of my lips last night hurt, still occasionally sore if accidentally touched.

After being slapped by my husband, no one made a sound until Cahyo brought his laptop out of the room. Next time he did not return, he forced to sleep in the living room even though the surrounding situation was getting colder because of the rain at that time.

However, Cahyo is not at home today. Again forced to go to the office even though the driver was late and packed with rain whose rhythm was unpredictable, I was waiting for him too, then the vehicle went with increasing speed.

Like the son and father, Kalista also did not want to lose. He refused to remain at home, but the wind that brought the children rain had not yet given a stop sign. Finally, he broke through the departure on his motorbike, not caring for my scolding that exceeded the length of the train carriage.

I exhaled, just this morning.

"Why are his lips?"

Hearing my first child ask, I immediately shut my mouth. Didn't want to show it more in front of Fathan. Realizing that the object of his eyes was blocked, the man left the dining table to sympathize with me.

"Mama's okay?"

"No, it's okay," my elak smiled stalling, "this–ini is just a bite! It will heal itself."

I displayed a row of teeth, trying to make things unbearable with a small smile. I don't want to worry him, could interfere with his exam later and make yesterday's problems become prolonged. Rather than bring it up, I better just forget about it.

"If there's anything, then say Fathan yes, Ma."

My head nodded, he was more attentive than his father. I'm glad that my son showed me his interest, didn't seem to want anything to happen to his mother without Fathan's knowledge.

After breakfast, I cleaned up some dirty cutlery from Fathan and his sister. Rinsing it in four dishwashers,

let my son go back to the living room to prepare for the first hour of his test.

Maybe I can prepare something for him, I don't want my son to be sad or getting moody because of circumstances that could have made his feelings drift away. Moreover, there is only us at home, I must not make the atmosphere more lonely and awkward.

After tidying up the kitchen, I picked up two pieces of bread, cheese bars, a message, and a sweet thick sachet that was placed on the dining table. I can prepare this, hopefully his feelings improve and can be more eager to face the test on the third day.

At first, I grated the cheese on the bread. Sprinkle a chocolate message, then pour sweetened condensed milk until evenly covering each corner. I covered it again with another loaf of bread, then turned to teflon to dilute the margarine.

I made sure each layer was full of yellow melts, then toasted the bread as it flipped through. Hm. .. The longer there is a delicious roast smell in my nose, I let it sit for a moment to make it brown.

Fittingly, this stove I turned off the fire to immediately move the toast sheet to a plate. I served it there, not forgetting my son's favorite glass of chocolate milk, then drove him slowly to a man whose attention was then distracted by me.

"Well ... What is this?" He approached, his phone placed spontaneously while clarifying what I had just brought for him, "fathan's love, Mama is very good. Thanks, Mama!"

Hearing her enthusiastically with a beaming face, I smiled fully and was willing to cut her bread into pieces. There may be people who consider this trivial, should not be exaggerated. However, that does not mean every little thing is meaningless in the eyes of a child. I've tried and I'm glad Fathan can appreciate it.

"Still hot ...."

My son was mangled repeatedly. "Yes, it's okay, Ma. Fathan also wants to continue his exam, it's already started."

Finally, I say his word. While doing the test, I divided the meal into four slices of warm cheese chocolate toast. The temperature is getting colder considering the rain is also still not sliced, the rush is not reduced from the morning on Wednesday.

Every now and then I pluck a snack at the guest table, check for any new news that appears on the phone screen, then occasionally glance at my child who seems to focus on facing the test. Although it was just a daily exam, their grades would enter and could be used as class rankings for a while.

I would buy a novel for the first child if he was ranked first. Maybe not just a novel, there are some items that he can choose later. Usually, his father also always gave gifts. That's why Fathan is a learning spirit.

About half an hour later, my firstborn put her phone on the table. Replacing the object in his hand with a piece of bread, then eating at will while sharing his attention with me.

"Enak, Mama. Thanks."

I smiled knot. "His test?"

His head nodded, then drank a glass of chocolate milk as a cleanser in the mouth area. "Udah, Mom. There was an announcement from the teacher."

"Why, huh?" I approached.

"Say, there is an accumulation for the continuing education of the class children. Who wants to go to college, who wants to work. Help out, Ma, make it in. This again on the record," he explained complete.

"Well, yeah Fathan isi, dong. Tell me where to go to college."

"Fathan really can go to college, Ma?"

If you can be honest, there is something that then hamper the comfort of the chest. I was stunned to hear him ask, my feelings also instantly deteriorated seeing him filled with hope. Fathan was not wrong, I was just aghast and saddened given the poor communication of our family.

I've never discussed it with my husband, but it's also impossible for me to say 'no' to my son. If the matter of his wishes I can refuse, but what we discuss is not about the wishes of someone. He asked; could he go to college or not?

"Maybe, Fathan can go to college!" I replied, "now Fathan just needs to learn, don't worry about the cost, let's be Mama's business with me."

However, there was no motivated reaction I could see from his face. It's like I said 'no' and didn't let her go to college, but I meant to make her forget about the problem. What's wrong with her?

"Fathan can go to college, Fathan believes in Mama, yes," I said, looking at him seriously, "what would Fathan do? Want to be a doctor?"

His head shook rapidly, but it could not be considered a spontaneous thing. Judging from his reaction earlier, Fathan seemed to refuse steadily and was convinced by the answer. "No, Fathan wants to go to literature."

"Literature?" I frowned, "why enter Literature?"

"Fathan's interest in Literature, Ma. Fathan likes novels, stories, reading, writing, and others. So Fathan said, 'Faculty of Languages and Arts'."

"You're not thinking, are you? You're an IPA major, Fathan. Why go in there? The working prospects are not clear, later the gedenya want to be what– become a writer?"

"Now, Ma?" Fathan looked at me in disbelief, "but Fathan was sure, Fathan would go to Indonesian literature. Fathan wants to learn a lot about literature."

Exasperated, I chuckled, "There are still doctors, Accounting, Management, Communication Science, Technology! Why should Literature? Mama doesn't like you like gini girls, ah. Moreover, you pinter, you should benefit your chance."

"What goes into literature is a girl?"

"Yolot you say."

"Fathan seriously, Ma." His eyes were sharp and full of confidence, impressed not wanting to forgive if someone could have pleaded before him.

"Mama's serious too, Fathan. Study according to your majors or who like Mama said earlier; Accounting, Communication Science, Technology, Nutrition ...."

"Mis majors later."