Sometimes, I wish I had the same kind of relationship with my own parents like the way I have with my kids. Of course, I only have one parent, i.e. my mother. And I do not recall having the same kind of openness with her or talk in the same level.

Today, I dropped my two sons, #2 and #3 at church. I was driving. At the Green Lane/Jalan Hamilton/Jalan Batu Gantong traffic light, the traffic was crawling.

The green light shows 07 minutes before turning red. There is a huge yellow box that spans two junctions. So, I slowed down because I know I cannot make it to the other side of the yellow box.

But the silly sons of mine chanted, “pecut pecut pecut, ma…you can do it, you cannnnnn do it….”

So, I pun pecut lah. (Pecut = accelerate)

I barely got my car’s butt over to the other end, out of the yellow box. A bit slower, I will be blocking the traffic. And the cilaka kids pulak, “Ma….look, police beside you! Die already, kena saman already!”

Haih, really lah, police on bike but not chasing me, lucky.

So, the next traffic light is the one which I am supposed to turn into our church, behind Caltex Green Lane.

This time, the #2 pulak, “Ma…drift, drift, drift….come on you can do it if you put your mind to it.” (talked in a tone mimicking those motivational speaker)

Sheeshh…this is not the first time their urgings got me drifting lah, pecut-ing lah and all kind things. Usually, it is darn funny because they always make fun of my driving, especially the parking.

They are forever comparing my driving with the father. Like, “Eh, ma…your husband only needs to turn right into the parking lot, you need to go in and out at least three times baru can masuk. Go ask your husband teach you how to park properly lah!”

Or, “Eh ma, your husband doesn’t care which direction the arrows show, he simply sumbat masuk the wrong direction. You also follow him lah, why follow the huge yellow arrows and make a big round lah?” (like those in Tesco’s carpark?)

Heh, now the #2 wants to buy an expensive pair of sneakers. He come to bodek-ing me. I told him, “Eh, you go ask my husband lah, he is the man of the house. I got no authority to approve these kind of things. I only have authority to drive out demons in Jesus’s name. Bwahaha!”

And the Catholic son of mine said, “This is call intercede lah, you go intercede for me.”

My reply, “You porrah, you want, you sendiri go and ask, I don’t want my backside get zhng. Intercede konon….”

Sigh…how lucky it is to grow up in a family with both parents. I hope all parents adopt this ‘same level openness’ with your teens.