CHAPTER 55

Original: 2007-07-31

Rewritten: 2026-03-31

Lun has been living in the group home for nearly a year and a half. He has grown up, become stronger, and developed more of his own opinions. When he is dissatisfied, he will glare at us and then use his hand to hit his own his nose tip.

In Cantonese, when criticizing someone for having a bad temper, people say the person’s temper “stinks.” Lun’s temper is quite “stinky” too.

Although he has a bad temper, he doesn’t lose it often—but when he does, it can seem to come out of nowhere. Even so, he sometimes gives us a warning first, loudly shouting, “Outburst!” with quite a forceful presence. My natural response is to shout back twice as loudly, “Outburst?!” He has always omitted the word “temper,” which I believe is related to his congenital speech difficulties.

After observing his outbursts more frequently, we began to notice some patterns. But these “patterns” are only faint clues. The two of us rack our brains but still cannot come up with a clear explanation.

In fact, since moving into the group home, his overall condition has improved. He is physically stronger, emotionally more stable, smarter, and more sensible. He has grown accustomed to group home life—perhaps even bringing home expectations shaped by its high standard of care, which may lead to dissatisfaction.

Recently, whenever we bring him home for weekend stays, he will have one or two outbursts. They happen quickly. Typically, he becomes silent, then glares, clenches his fists, and uses the joint between his thumb and index finger to strike the tip of his nose forcefully.

By the time we realize he is hitting his nose, it is already too late. Sometimes, he hits so hard that it causes a nosebleed. To prevent him from injuring himself, we can only shout to stop him and scold him for being “naughty.”

My standard response is to put on a fierce expression, stand with my left hand on my hip, point at him with my right hand, and use a kind of “attention-shifting tactic” to pull him out of his dissatisfied state and into another. This method works well. When he realizes he has angered us, he immediately restrains himself.

Knowing he is not allowed to hit his nose, he switches to hitting his forehead instead. The force is no less, but the skull is harder, so the injury is less severe. Still, his temper remains the same, and we feel both heartache and anger. We treat him like a treasure—yet he still throws tantrums?

Every weekend, the three of us go together to pick him up from the group home. We first take him to a café or a McDonald’s for a meal and let him eat his fill. Then we go to Chinese and Western supermarkets to buy snacks, return home to cook instant noodles, and eat luncheon meat… all with smiles and gentle words.

We believe the reasons for his outbursts are not very complicated. There are causes, though not necessarily rational ones. But how much reasoning can he actually understand? Over these past twenty-plus years, despite all our concern, true two-way communication has never been possible. As parents, we can only guess at his thoughts and feelings, never confirm them. We can only accept this unchangeable reality and not cling to finding deeper explanations.

Over the past year and more, he has grown, become more aware, and developed stronger opinions. Naturally, he now has his own expectations and standards. By observing his expressions and reactions, we can still gauge his emotions and state, so things do not spiral out of control.

He glares more often at his mother, especially when he thinks she is criticizing him, so she has become more careful with her words. As for his younger brother, Lun does not dare provoke him. The two brothers keep their distance, each going their own way, not interfering with each other.

Our conclusion is that Lun uses head-hitting as a way to vent his dissatisfaction. We can still manage this, and by patiently outlasting him, he gradually adjusts his expectations. In the end, this behavior has indeed decreased over time, just as we had hoped.