My eldest son was washing the dishes and I was mopping the floor when he suddenly felt like telling me about the different kinds of Robins in Batman’s life.  My mind went like, “You want to tell me what?  What makes you think I want to know about Batman’s Robins?”  Of course I didn’t say it out loud, I didn’t even know that there were a lot of Robins.  I just knew there were just one Batman and Robin, but no!  Apparently there was one Batman but many Robins.

So I go like, “Anak ( son) can you just hold that thought.  I have to finish mopping the other room, then I’ll get back to you.“ Little did he knew that I was just trying to get away from the conversation that I didn’t have the slightest interest.  I mean like, really!  Batman?  And he’s not even a little kid.

I went to the other room, mopped the floor but my mind was on a more pressing issue.  Pressing for me that is!  When I went back to him, I tried to get his mind off this Batman topic and tried to involve him with what I was thinking.  You know…adult stuff that needs to be talked about.  He’s a young man anyway.  I started mopping the kitchen while going on with the topic I wanted us to talk about.  He on his part was trying his best to pay attention, which was a little mature than I was.  He did not dismiss the topic like what I did with his Batman subject.   I noticed that he was just waiting for me finish when he advertently asked  my permission if he could discuss his many Robins now.

I sighed and succumbed to submission, “alright, what about your Batman and Robins?”  I knew that time, there was no excuse not to listen.

According to his comics readings, the first Robin was Batman’s adopted son who changed his name when he became an adult man.  His name, I couldn’t recall because I’m very vague on details.  The second Robin, died, was raised to life and became evil because he really wanted to have his revenge on Joker.  The third Robin was Batman’s real son from the daughter of Ra’s al Ghul.  And the last and fourth Robin was a girl.

That was how I remembered it.  If there was any misinformation about what I wrote, it wasn’t my son’s fault.  It’s mine.  It was the best that I could recall from listening to him.  Finally when he was done talking, I was tempted to say, “Oh yeah!  Nice to know but I don’t think you should read comics any longer, you should read more important stuff.”  But of course, I did not say that out loud.  I don’t want to hurt his feelings and tell it to his face that I’m not in every bit interested with Batman trivia no matter how I enjoyed watching Batman Begins and the sequels.  I’m not about to say the conversation we just had was not worth my while.

I guess parenting is not really all about me.  It’s about me and my kids.  About building relationship with them.  The funny thing was, it was my son who taught me to take turns.  He listens to my concerns and I listen to him after.

Batman and his Robins may never catch on with my list of things to talk about, but the humility of listening and just being there when my son wants to say whatever interest him is irreplaceable.

Little by little, if I continue to be humble enough to listen to them even when I don’t feel like doing so, I would be able to nurture a relationship where my sons talk to me first when it matters most.