As the pilot announced that we soon would land at Kuala Lumpur International Airport in 20 minutes, my nephew Billy was sleeping on my lap. For that very long 20 minutes, I couldn't help myself to ask this question: what's worse than traveling with a kid? Traveling with a sick kid.
Not that I was being cruel and rude, but series of questions and ideas that popped in my head were:
- Maybe I should send him back to Jakarta
- Maybe I could just leave him in a pawn shop and collect him on my way back from Hongkong
- Give him a couple of hundreds bucks and said, "see you, kid!"
And no, I decided to stick to initial plan and hoped that he'd get better in time. Apparently, Billy does not share the same traveling spirit I have. He doesn't really enjoy cruising and learning about the new environments and cultures. Breakfast for him is anything served in 3 minutes or less, while I was having this wild dream of enjoying dimsum in Hongkong, bakut tea in Singapore, or some other local dishes.
I also questioned my decision of taking this huge responsibility. What affected my decision of not traveling alone? Certainly not because I needed someone to take my photo with Mickey Mouse. Or maybe I was too chicken shit? Then I remember it's because I care for my nephew, this is his gift for passing the challenging grade six. He deserves this. Maybe he's not at his best condition, this is when I come in, be a good supporter.
He just asked whether it's possible I could carry his backpack as well. Arrrghhh.
So yeah, it's going to be a little bumpy, more work and less fun, but I must also keep in mind these two keywords: #holiday, #adventure. Also, I must keep in mind that he just turned 12, he after all is just a kid. I have made my decision and I must stick to it. Alright, I'm ready to fly again, Hongkong here I come!