New Year's lament

Mum has started her birthday celebrations.

Her birthday falls on Jan 2, but as it coincides with the festive period over New Year, she starts the merry-making early on Dec 31.

The last time I visited, her son Ball told me that he was planning to go out with friends for a night of karaoke on New Year’s Eve. Would I care to give him a New Year’s present – cash slipped in an envelope?

I gave him some cash, which I hand-delivered early yesterday. Ball was still asleep, so I entrusted the money to his elder brother Boy.

Last night I called his mother to wish her a happy birthday. She reminded me I still owed her B100 from one night earlier in the week when she succumbed to her son’s pleadings for a drink.

She had called me at work, and asked me if I would like to pay the bill if she bought alcohol on tick for her dependent son.

‘Why not ask Ball to give you a share of the money I gave him as a New Year’s gift?’ I suggested.

‘If he’s spending it on brown stuff, it will all be gone by now,’ she said.

I dropped in after work last night to give her the B100 I owed, and reflected on the fact that if her family wasn’t so eager for money, I might want to visit more often.

As it is, I call in only rarely, usually on days off. I seldom call the mother any more, because I know that if I do, there’s a chance she’ll ask me to pay for her son’s drinking habits.

Every day is a new day when he wants to toss it back again.

Ball’s mother has noticed my absences, and the fact that I seldom call, or pick up her calls to me.

‘I am too busy,’ I say, and partly that is true. I am working overtime at the office, teaching, and helping the son of a work friend brush up a university assignment.

But the real reason for my absences - I was once a daily visitor - is that I resent having to pay money in the slums for so little reward.

I would like to carry on with my role as mentor to young Ball, as he is an innocent in so many ways of the world.

I cannot blame him for teenage-like behaviour. It is a reflection of his age, and he doesn’t know any better.

But if his mother is not prepared to step in and do her job as a parent, what are the rest of us supposed to do?

When I called last night, she admitted she hadn’t seen her son all day. She clears out of home early in the morning, and spends the days performing errands, or (more often) with friends.

Ball hasn’t worked since mid-November. He tells his mother: ‘Oh, I will look for a job in the New Year.’

That kind of slackness is unacceptable, but it carries on in their household, because his mother is too weak to put her foot down.

Nor could I accept the nightly drinking, and – worst of all – the fact that he is so happy to ask people for money to feed his habit.

I want to spend my time with quality people, as life is bigger, and better than this. They might all come right in the end, but who can afford to sit around waiting?

Ball seldom asks his mother to pay...but he will ask me, because I have said yes in the past, and am less likely to object, even in the half-hearted way his mother does.

Bugger that. I am not there to be used.

No one has any capital, because they squander it on empty pursuits. Mr Ball can’t afford his imbibing habit. Nor can he afford to stay out of work, as his girlfriend is pregnant, and he will be a father soon.

I will carry on seeing him on my days off, but the relationship we once enjoyed is no more.

Happy New Year to readers, and thank you once again for supporting this blog.