Simple birthday, foolish uncle

We celebrate birthdays in a minimalist style, perhaps because we can’t be bothered any more.

Maiyuu bought me two cupcakes for my recent 48^thbirthday. The letters ‘HBD,’ like a Mission Impossible assignment, melted away in a matter of seconds.

I blew out the candles, as Maiyuu sang Happy Birthday. I joined him. We sounded rusty; really, we should have rehearsed.

A week later, the cupcakes are still sitting in the fridge. This is one of the advantages of getting old, I tell myself…my appetite for sweet goods has just fallen away.

I don’t normally do shops, but I might have to force myself late next month, when Maiyuu’s birthday arrives.

What’ll it be, dear…twin cupcakes?

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I get up a good two hours before my partner, who rises at 8am sharp every day. He sets his smartphone alarm to go off at that hour, and as far as I know, it hasn’t failed him yet.

Our lives are well regimented these days, which is pleasing for someone who likes order. 

Maiyuu will rise, wash his face, and put in his teeth. Within half an hour he’s ready to head off for his big outdoors adventure … buying the day’s lunch and dinner.

I do not enjoy the first two hours of the day, which I spend before my computer. I quickly tire of my own company, and look forward to Maiyuu getting up. We don’t say much, but when we do talk, we make sure it counts.

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At Ball’s place, I am uncle Mali.

His slum abode is now home to four children – Nong Min, his own child, Nong Fresh, who is adopted, Nong Mew, the son of his elder sister and her partner, and Nong Bright, the son of his younger brother Beer.

Beer is aged about 20, his son six-months old. A week ago, Nong Bright sat in my arms happily. This week, he’s scared of my big farang face, and cries. When he shows signs of wanting to cry, I point his baby seat in the other direction, so he can’t see me.

I am close to the other kids, especially Ball’s daughter, Nong Min, who has started attending a nursery school about 10m down the lane in his slum.

Ball and his girlfriend Jay pay just 20 baht a day to have Nong Min attend the nursery there. Her first day was hard on all of us. Ball and Jay decided not to go to work, as they were so worried about Nong Min.

I ducked down the slum alleyway and peeked in the window of the nursery. I spotted Min, who was standing in a circle of children.

Like a foolishly doting uncle, I waved. Min, the youngest of the 20-30 kids in the room, spotted me by the window, and started to cry.

She tried running out the door towards me. An older child, who was talking to Min at the time, stopped her, and put her back.

I ducked away, but she saw me, and once again started to cry.

I fled the scene, before the teachers could spot me as a lurker. They do not allow family to visit kids while the nursery is open, because they know their little charges will play up.

Min is now happier at the nursery than she was, though she doesn’t go every day.

Ball is working as a messenger for a bank, a job he last held several months ago, but was forced to break off temporarily while he finished his service as a military conscript.

He took her to work the next day, and received many compliments for her pretty looks. However, the venture was shortlived, as the company frowns on employees taking their kids to work.

Ball left the military early this month. He and his girlfriend have only just returned to work in the Asok area after many weeks at home looking after the kids.