July 06, 2015

Of Robots and Kaiju Monsters - Roaring Memories

For many years I was a Zoid, a big black and mean bison Zoid in my head, a lame Mommy Zoid in my Prince’s head. A bison Zoid that had lazer powers, that swam underwater, and had tiny humans for crew that fixed me up in seconds (or minutes – depending if I needed an excuse to catch my breath). My Prince was the “bida” Lion Zoid and he had everything. And I mean every little bida thing. If Lame Mommy Zoid breathed fire, Bida Lion Zoid breathed fire AND missiles. If Lame Mommy Zoid had force field, Bida Lion Zoid had electrifying force field. It had to be like that. The Prince hated losing. But it was fun, easily one of the best bonding moments I have with my son. When he turned 9, I pointed out that he was already getting big and that we might hurt each other for real. So we stopped for good. (We had an epic last fight on top of my parents’ bed, read: bigger and bouncier). In reality I was just really getting old. I was already 29 with asthma.

Fast forward to today. Apparently I’m a mean big-ass dinosaur whose nemesis is Godzilla. At least that’s how my second son (ahem, Godzilla) directs our playtime nowadays. He is only 3 years old. Oh God help me there will be around 6 more years of this kind of play. Let’s not forget my Happy Knight who just turned a year old. I wonder what kind of rough play he will be into? Being a dinosaur is a lot harder than being a Zoid because as a Zoid my hands served as ammunitions, I basically just flung my arms about. But as a dinosaur? I have to growl all the time. I have to snap my teeth again and again. I have to literally bite Godzilla. Not to mention I have to stomp around like a boss. It’s pure physical workout I tell you.

Yes, this is what raising boys means. It means hundreds of rough pillow fights.  “Laban laban” as my second son calls it. They’re just naturally drawn to that kind of play. If it’s just up to me, I’ll throw crayons and papers on the floor and call it an afternoon. But I am more than happy to play the part, to be their favorite villain. It’s actually an honor. No matter how lame an enemy I am (what kind of a big-ass dinosaur needs rest every 3 minutes?!), it’s still my face they will see when they’re old and gray and recalling their childhood.
The Prince now realized how unfair it is to be all-powerful, haha!

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