FAMILY MATTERS
Is it procrastination or curiosity?

By Ka'ûhua Lucas

"Hui!" I hollered out the kitchen window. "Where did you go?"

No answer.

"Huiiii!" I called out, again.

Still no response.

I set the breakfast plate in the dish drain and wiped my hands on a towel.

As I made my way outside, I saw my husband ambling up the driveway with the newspaper in his hand.

"What on earth are you doing?" I asked.

"Just thought I would read the paper while I'm having a little 'brekkie' (breakfast) this morning," he said.

"I thought you were going to get the cooler ready," I said exasperated. "We have to be at the canoe race in half an hour."

"Oh yeah, that's right," he said absent-mindedly. "Don't worry. It'll get done."

Hawaiians have a saying for those who became distracted by an insignificant matter or disappeared on any excuse.

'A'ohe kanaka'o kauhale, aia i Mana, ua haohia i ka i'a iki.

This Hawaiian proverb is translated as: No one is at home, for all have gone to Mana, attracted there by small fishes.

My eldest son seems to have adopted his father's ways.

When he was 5, I decided to enroll him in a swim club.

I made it a point to remind him that after he was pau with practice he was to quickly shower and change into dry clothes.

"Mai mili 'apa (Don't be slow)," I said. "Because we have to pick your brother up at the sitter's by 5 p.m."

Everyday I would arrive after swim practice and my little 5-year-old swimmer was still in the shower.

One day, I waited.

And waited.

I posted myself near the entrance to the men's bathroom and called out his name.

No answer.

An adult swimmer entered the locker room, and I asked him to search for my curly-haired kid.

Twenty minutes later the man exited the locker room.

"Did you see my son?" I asked.

"Yeah, there's a kid in there that fits your description," he said. "I told him that his mom was waiting for him."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing really. He just shrugged and kept playing with his friend."

Forty-five minutes later my 5-year-old exits the building.

"What were you up to in there?" I scolded.

He beamed at me and described with enthusiasm how he and a friend had dared each other.

The challenge was to see who could first land his swim shorts on the ceiling light fixture.

I remember later sharing my frustrations with my husband, and he shrugged it off.

"Honey, it's called intellectual curiosity."

Reach Ka'ohua Lucas at Family Matters, 'Ohana section, The Advertiser, P.O. Box 3110, Honolulu, HI 96802; write ohana@honoluluadvertiser.com; or fax 525-8055.