People encourage you to have more kids, but no one tells you how to deal with it when your children’s personalities are as different as chilli and wasabi.

My daughter resembles me in the sense that we’re usually quick to get ready and get out of the house. This stands in stark contrast to my boy who takes more time than I can tolerate to ignite his engine. I could feel my blood boiling as I witnessed him dilly-dallying, swinging his clothes, running to his mummy half-naked, and then tossing his clothes like a baseball. ⚾️

So close to losing it. Instead, I turned on Netflix and watched “Culinary Class Wars Season 2”.

In hindsight, I should just leverage this as a 修行 (spiritual cultivation) practice. If I were to attain Nirvana in this lifetime, it would be the merit I have accumulated from minding my children’s annoying quirks.

This isn’t to say that their disparate personalities are always a cause of grief. Just now, my daughter saw a cute dog. Without hesitation, she asked the owner if she could touch it and proceeded to stroke the dog. Compare this to my son who spoke like a whining mouse when my colleagues talked to him yesterday.

9.30am and breakfast is nowhere in sight. I can only console myself with the adage “一种米养百种人 (It takes all sorts to make the world)”.