O6-1O–26

Wednesday: The fine line between gains and babysitting.
The sun had been up for hours, but Kyeji was still running on yesterday’s fumes. It was another sleepless day, and his back was offering a sharp, rhythmic protest with every movement he made. Honestly, his spine felt like it was staged in a permanent strike against his late-night programming habits. But regardless of the ache, today was Wednesday—and in the household, Wednesday meant one thing.

Gym day.

Despite the fog in his brain, Kyeji found himself at the gym with his Dada. Something was grounding about the clank of iron and the quiet, disciplined presence of his father. They moved through their sets—Kyeji mostly focusing on not falling asleep mid-rep—until the workout was finally done. By the time they headed home, his muscles were screaming louder than his back, and he wasted no time collapsing into his bed for a much-needed, albeit brief, rest.

But the “cool Kuya” duties never truly stopped.

By 3:00 PM, Kyeji was back on his feet, maneuvering through the bustling crowds of SM Megamall. He wasn’t alone; he had the “chaos duo” with him—Sky and Sai.

They headed straight for Fantasy World, and for the next few hours, Kyeji’s world was a blur of neon lights, arcade music, and the non-stop “yapping” of a three-year-old. Watching Sky’s energetic antics and Sai’s bubbly excitement made the exhaustion feel a little more distant. He was the one holding the tokens, the one making sure no one got lost, and the one secretly enjoying the games just as much as they were. Dignity? It didn’t exist when you were busy winning a stuffed toy for a five-year-old and a three-year-old.

As evening bled into night, the manic energy of the arcade shifted into something softer. Instead of heading straight for the parking lot, Kyeji decided they needed to cool down.

The three of them took a slow walk outside, letting the fresh night air clear the scent of the mall from their lungs. With Sky on one side and Sai on the other, Kyeji felt that familiar protective tug in his chest. The city lights were bright, the air was a bit humid, but the quiet chatter of the kids was the only thing he really tuned into.

Eventually, they made their way back home. The kids were finally winding down, their energy spent, and Kyeji was more than ready to join them in sleep. He walked through the front door, his back still aching and his eyes heavy, but the gloom of the previous day felt significantly lighter.

Mission accomplished, now please let me sleep.