Hopeless males, battling Mum

Mr Ball took the day off work again yesterday, after imbibing ya dong too heavily the night before.

Put like that, it sounds rather harsh. Let’s have another go. I am sure his sympathetic mother would rather have me put it like this anyway...

‘Mr Ball rose late, complaining he would be unable to go to work, because he was so stressed the night before over his girlfriend that he forgot himself, and drank.’

When I turned up at their place yesterday afternoon, I found him asleep in the middle of his mother’s bed. He was one of three people asleep on a ragged mattress, squeezed together like peas in a pod.

Ball's younger brother slept on one side, Mum's indolent partner Lort on the other. The guys like this room, because it has air-con.

I closed the bedroom door and let them get on with it.

Mum was in poor spirits: ‘Sometimes I just want to leave. I have 10 mouths to feed in this household, and get little help,’ she said.

The family drama of the moment concerns Ball’s girlfriend, Jay. She was paid for her supermarket job the other day, but declined to give any of the money to Mum.

Naughty Jay lives at Ball’s place for free. Mum feeds her, gets her youngest son to take Jay to work every day, pick her up for meal breaks, take her back...

Mum has also lent her money, both for herself and her elder brother, who always seems to be facing some financial crisis.

Ball and Jay have been together half a year.

One day, Ball turned up at Mum’s place with Jay in tow. Ball had just started work at the Macro department store, where Jay was also on staff.

Ball met Jay on his first day at work, and brought her home to meet Mum.

That was sweet. However, Jay wanted more than merely making Mum's acquaintance.

She was living with her elder brother, but wanted to move in with Ball instead.

Her brother has his own girlfriend and child. Their parents live in Chiang Mai but have split up.

Jay won't ask them for financial support, so asks Ball's Mum instead. Otherwise, she relies on what she makes as a supermarket shelf stacker.

Jay's pay of B6500 came out this week. Mum doesn’t know where it went, but on the same day as she was paid, Jay turned up at home saying it had all gone.

Her elder brother, who studies, needed help with this and that.

Ball was unhappy with Jay, as he knows his mother needs help running the household.

Mum was bitter, too.

‘I feed her, provide her with board; she also gets transport to work every day. Why can’t she contribute?’ asked Mum.

As is my wont, I offered advice. ‘Ask to see her payslip. Let’s see how much she’s really earning. Next, start withdrawing services...no motorbike to work and back. No meals either, unless she contributes.’

Mum listened, but said nothing.

‘The other day she called from work, asking [youngest son] Beer to go out and buy her some clothes,’ said Mum.

‘She said she’d pay me back. He didn’t go, but still I wonder...if we had bought her the clothes, would she have bothered paying for them?’ asked Mum, as if to rub salt in her own wounds.

Referring to the three men in the bedroom next to us, I said: ‘Why does the burden of looking after this household have to fall on a woman?

'Those three guys are sleeping in air con, oblivious to the world, while you worry about how to pay for their next meal,’ I said.

Other than talk, I didn’t offer much help. I gave Mum B40 to pay for a beer, so Ball would have something to drink that night before bed. If he wanted more, Mum could pay for it.

I offered to drop in to see her again after I finished work, but in the end I didn’t bother.

By then, Mum had started drinking ya dong herself, and her spirits had improved.

Also by then, I am tired, and need rest. I want to see the boyfriend, and enjoy my life away from my slum burdens.

My usual routine, after I finish work? I call Mum, and ask after her son.

I drop in to their place after walking home, to make sure the Charmed One has gone to bed.

If he hasn’t gone to bed by that hour, he won’t rise at 6am in time for work.

The night before he skipped work, I found him taking a meal with Jay.

He had black rings under his eyes, and looked worse for wear. As they mounted the stairs to their room, I said goodnight to my errant son, and left.

Last night, I found only Mr B, his younger brother, milling about. ‘Is he asleep?’ I asked through the open doorway leading into the slum.

‘He is.’

‘Good,’ I said, and left.

That’s it. Mum was imbibing ya dong nearby, but I didn’t want to hear more tales of misery, so I went home.

PS: Where are Mum's dreams? I refuse to believe they reside in the bottom of a bottle of ya dong. Maybe they reside over there...on the other side of the rainbow.