Teaching him ... it's hard.

This morning my little rascal slammed his plastic racket right into my chest while I was happily watching television. Well, I know he didn't mean to do that but still he needed to know it wasn't right to do such an act.

I took his hand and slapped it hard. It hurt. My fingers hurt. His eyes welled up with tears and he cried really softly with his face down. Barely ten seconds later, he stopped and looked at me. He learnt his lesson.

I too learnt mine. I should not have hit him with my fingers. I should have done the exact same action he did on me. Slam the racket at him.

Ok. Kidding. You think I'm nuts? I aren't. At least not yet.

But frankly, I needed him to know that it hurts and that it is not right to use a racket or any other item to hit someone. If I took no action and let him be, it will be difficult teaching him in the future.

I am sure you'll agree with me.

Nevertheless, Luca and I are still the best of friends.

Emotionally attached to one another.

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