January's almost over and I am still recuperating from the Christmas rush and festivities. It didn't really help that the beginning of the year did not start on a very good note. This is now known (to me at least) as The Beyblade Saga. Come, settle down, and let Auntie Pam here begin her yarn...
More than a year ago, Isaac had seen some boys in our neighbourhood playing with Beyblades, and it really interested in. For the uninitiated,
Beyblades are a kind of fancy Japanese spinning top toy which is probably really cheap to produce, but they made it so fancy and cool looking that it has an entire range of similarly dismilar looking tops and it's own cartoon series to boot. Hubbs bought him one to play with but with only one top, there was no fight, no challenger to defeat, and so didn't hold his attention for long.
However, Isaac's friends in school have been talking about Beyblade and it has been intriguing him no end. Then some weeks before Christmas last year, we visited my cousin's home in faraway Punggol, for dinner and to catch up. My nephew had a fairly big collection of Beyblades, and a Beyblade stadium to boot. Soon, the kids were on the floor surrounding the stadium, having a fun time battling the Beyblade tops against each other.
After that, Isaac begged us to get him a Beyblade stadium for his Christmas present. We did the usual "Well, we'd see whether you're a good boy." all the way to Christmas. Whenever he threw and tantrum or whined or misbehaved in any way, I'd say "You're not being a good boy ah..." He'd be properly chastised and calm down quickly. There was once, out of the blue (and not during one of his tantrums), he asked me: "Mummy, do you think I can be a good boy?" A bit stunned by the out-of-the-blue-ness, I said:"Yes, of course. I know you can be a very good boy." He looked so relieved at my answer, grabbed me in a tight hug and said "Thank you, Mummy." It took me awhile to realise that he took that to mean that he would most likely get the Beyblade stadium that he so desires. I quickly replied with some damage control:"In fact most of the time you are a very good boy, just that some times, you forget, and then you don't behave like a good boy. Please try to remember to be a good boy at all times, okay?" "Yes, Mummy, I will!!!"
So came Christmas and yes, we bought him his Beyblade stadium. He was ecstatic. He had one Beyblade to begin with - the Aries. The stadium came with Galaxy Pegasus. And through some machinations by yours truly, he got Meteo L-Drago from one of our Xmas gift exchange exercise with my close group of girlfriends. Yes, these are all names of the Beyblade tops. I got my three nieces Beyblades as well, and they all had a smashing time pitting the tops against each other all through Christmas and the following weekend cum New Year's Eve and New Year's Day itself.
And you know what? Barely a week after Christmas, we lost them all. The three Beyblades, plus the stadium, all gone.
It was the first day of school, 3rd January 2013. I was to send the kids to the childcare centre. The helper came down with us, as usual, to help with the bags, and settling the kids into the car. The helper took out a huge photoframe from the car boot, and placed it next to the pillar next to the car - I saw her do that and told her:"Oh yes, please bring that upstairs." Then I saw the Beyblade Stadium box and the box where we kept the Beyblades and its tools in, and also told my helper "Bring these up too." and I placed them next to the photoframe.
Sorry, no prizes for guessing the correct answer, coz, yes, you guessed it, she claims that she didn't hear me, and hence, didn't bring either of the items up at all. When hubbs parked the car that same night and saw the cardboard box packaging of the Stadium strewn all over the carpark - he knew it was a goner. It was the nonchalent attitude the helper exhibited when we asked her about it, that really irked me. If she'd just said "Sorry" apologetically, I would have felt better. But no, she actually just looked kinda stunned, spaced-out, nonchalent, and mumbled a "I didn't hear you." (in that order!) after I dismissed her with "Nevermind nevermind." - I didn't even scold her! Scolding her won't bring back the stuff, right? Also, I was feeling guilty coz I thought I should have reminded her to bring up the stuff before I drove off etc... Sigh, suffice to say I was very disturbed that night. It's not so much the monetary value of the items lost... It was just very... heart pain and a bit angry - at the helper, at myself, at the fella who took our stuff!
Isaac sensed something was wrong when we were questioning the helper. Not difficult to pick up when the question was "Where is Isaac's Beyblade Stadium and Beyblades?" So he turned to us and said:"Where is my stadium?" and all I could say was:"I'm so sorry, Isaac! Someone took our things." He cried for a little while, but thankfully was very mature about it and didn't fuss about it. I told him:"Let's write some signs and put them up! Maybe they will return them to us!"
And so we did. I wrote some signs, and inspired by my signs, so did Isaac. We placed one at the multi-story carpark (MSCP)'s lift lobby, one inside the lift itself, another one at the 5th floor of the MSCP lift lobby, and another at the very pillar where we left the stuff. All five of us trooped down to the carpark at like 11pm that night, to put up the signs.
I told my colleague about this and she commented:"Ah! You give Isaac false hope!" "No," I replied, "It's not false hope. There is still a slim chance, a small hope, that it might be returned to us. But there is still hope." I then proceeded to tell her
The Story of the Camera: More than 5 years ago, we also left behind a camera in this same carpark, but it was returned to us. So, miracles do happen. It is not impossible. Also, it gives us a course of action. Like, we are at least doing something to mitigate the circumstances.
But it was not to be, in this case. The
very next morning, someone had already torn off the notice that was at
the ground floor lift lobby of the multi-story carpark. They had torn it
off harriedly without bothering to get all the bits of paper off. Isaac
saw it and exclaimed:"Oh no! Someone tore off our notice already!" He
thought for awhile and continued:"Maybe it is the person who toook my
Beyblades! He doesn't like the notice to remind me that he's not
honest!" Frankly, I think he is right.
Shawna asked:"Mummy, why did someone take kor kor's Beyblades?"
Me: "I don't know, darling. They are not being honest. That's not nice, right?"
Shawna:"Yah! Not nice! They can buy their own Beyblades, right? Don't take ours!"
I had to laugh coz she was very astute. "Exactly! You're right, Shawna!"
In the days that followed, I still hoped you know. I hoped that the person would just bring the stuff and leave them at our front door anonymously. Or perhaps maybe some parent might sms me to say that they saw our notices and that their child is willing to give us one of their spare Beyblades to make Isaac feel better. But nope, zilch. Well, I really
just hope that the people who found the Beyblades are some super low
income family kinda folks and that the toys made some kid/s very very
happy...
