12

It is morning 6 o’clock. The dawn broke
into the house through every little space which is not covered. This is the
time for me and my son to wake up.

This is the most unpleasant time for me
every day. Not relating to leave my good dream and then back to our real life,
but only my start of the day is always unpleasant.

I woke up my son as usual. He grimaced. Hoping he would do it automatically every morning, but this had not been true. Every time, there is an explanation for me---he was so little, only four years old.

Time is limited. I could not let him still sleeping on the bed. I changed my plan. I pulled him directly from bed and went straight to the bathroom. This is only the beginning of my torture.

This is the hardest moment in the morning. I caught my son rudely after tidying up. He started yelling. He knew what is coming next which always caused him painful—step on the specially designed rough path.

Every time he stepped on it, he felt a great pain from his foot. The path is 3 meters long. He needed to finish four rounds, which meant 24m. He cried on every single step, continuously saying “I hate mum.” These words and his steps on the path pierced in my heart, but I must do these as he could not control his micturition. Doctor said this is the method to stimulate his muscle in order to help him improve the situation.

What I could reply calmly when he said he hate mum is “This is good to you.”