Nothing anyone says, nothing you read will ever prepare you enough to be a father.   Until you become one and are struggling in the vast ocean.   My boy has this annoying habit of playing with his toys before shower time. I get very exasperated with his inexplicable behaviour.   Of course, I wish I can shout at him to shower, just like I bellow at my unrepentant students in my booming voice. But I don’t want the lady boss in my family to have a word with me.   So I bite my tongue. And hold my temper. Which leads to some rather exaggerated sighing.   Tonight, in a rare moment of realisation, I put myself in my son’s shoes. Even though he plays with Lego blocks every day at the childcare centre, nothing beats playing with his toys at home. It’s comforting. Just like how homemakers gobble up Korean dramas. He’s just trying to fulfill his personal KPI before the night runs out and he has to go sleep. 💤   But having this insight doesn’t make parenting easier. Because his desire to play is insatiable. I can make it a point to create more play time for him but he would still delay this and decline that due to his innate need to play.   Which explains why I’m furiously typing this out at 11pm. Because I need to sleep. So does him. Another nightly battle tenuously fought. Gretchen Rubin said it best: the days are so (bloody) long.