And never-ever-ever join her on the table. Period.
She might be your best buddy, but you are definitely not hers, not at that moment.
And if that lady happens to be me, with my crush, I might bite, meow, roar or just chuff! It goes south from here, so if your headaches, you will know whom to blame.
You may be the King of the North out to save the world from white walkers, Night King and Zombies, but I am the Queen of Seven Kingdoms, I have two full-grown Dragons, an army of Un-sullied, an army of savages Dortharaki’s……….
And a BLOODY HELL GOOD BOOK to read!
Oh My! Why so much ranting? Whatever happened to the sweet girl?
I reach my office early, not that I want to. But for brevity sake, let’s just know that I get there a good half-an-hour before I should. And I find solace in the cafeteria. I look forward to reading what is happening next in Saleem Sinai life. Add to that, the reading done while commuting to the office, has already transported me to the pre-independence India, somewhere in Delhi, where Saleem Sinai’s mother has just made a public announcement of his existence.
Get this picture straight – Am deep down in the world of words.
You can only find me physically walking to the cafeteria, picking up a cup of coffee and settling down on a table with a book in hand, but in my mind, am not present in cafeteria. Am in Delhi.
Here is a visual, just so you get it straight.
But the universe is full of people who have a head that talks. (rolling eyes) does not read. The cafeteria is mostly empty at this time but has few from this breed. They have their head full of thoughts that ought to be spoken out loud in the presence of another head.
And they join me on my table, the table where I already have a company. Of my book. I could almost bark- Can’t you see, I have a company?
This one here and it’s a bloody good company.
But I didn’t bark. Or even Meow!
And so, I was interrupted by their life’s rumble about travel, office, kids, life ..blablabla. I was lending my ear but inside, I was cursing. You.
Sorry. Apology. Forgive me, please.
It was supposed to be me-reading time. You are at the wrong table! Clearly.
When it happened the second time. I even gave a cue. Out-loud Or maybe I just murmured.
Me picked up my tea, headed to a table. *Spot* a “Hey! Person”, Ignore, ignore and grand Ignore ..
“Hey! Person”: Hey, Are you alone? .. I will bring my cup.
Me: Am not alone… (watching him go to coffee machine) (murmuring) I really don’t need a company.
I hated him. With all my Heart, Kidney, Lung. Cumulative.
And then it all poured out of his mouth….
Forcing me to ask about his life. His commute. His work. But my mind was on the bookmark peeping out of my book placed neatly on the table. It will be only until the end of the day, a good ten hours before I could pick up my story 😦
See, How can I not hate that “Hey! Person?”
Moral of the story.
I have a book. I don’t need your company.
I have a book. I shouldn’t sit in the cafeteria, find a better place ( Heading to my desk, I realised we have a small pantry, crammed behind reception, on my floor, one down the cafeteria)
I have a book, sit in the pantry, hidden from all Hey! people.
Get the cue 😉 I don’t care!
Click on one of these and receive a plate full of fish fry. I promise.
or probably a dog. I mean why bitch, why not a dog? My fellow feminist will agree.
I don’t care. Not for this post.So don’t turn away coz you smelt a feminist.
The point of this post is, Karma is indeed a bitch or dog or whatever you wanna call it if it can be called “it”.
Because that would explain, why my husband even being on the wrong side of all doing, gets his way around doing all things, the wrong way.
This case was a direct indication of Karma “Oh! Get it, lady, he is right, even though wrong.”
My husband never ever takes his towel to his bath. He just conveniently whistles,open his door slightly, peeks out his head, extend his hand and I hush-phash-rush on that sound, hand him over his towel. Please imagine it, because it is romantic. But do not imagine with my husband. Use your own. Back in days, when nothing else mattered than seeing your husband dripping wet, fresh, scented, I would wait for the whistle and rest is ahem ahem ahem.
Now the romance is replaced by war-room tactics, to get my son out of the door before his school bus honks! Breakfast – check. snack pack-check. Milk-check. Oh no ! I forgot his pencil box. Why the hell do you even take it out of the bag? Please imagine this too. With my son. I would surely welcome you to try and replace me someday. The morning 7 to 8 AM. And, In the middle of all this chaos, I have to answer his whistle. Every day, with strict notes “Take your towel with you….”.
I, on the other hand, never go to bathroom un-prepared. Towel – check. Blah blah blah – check. I do not whistle, do not disturb, do not need an attendee to attend to my bathroom calls.
Who should Karma support? The wife who is prepared, well planned or a husband who goes to take bath without his towel?
One day I decided to set things straight for good. There comes the usual whistle, and instead of usual rush to answer it, I ignored, said am busy and didn’t pass his towel for a good 10 minutes or so.
If he can’t do it himself, he better wait when I can. Lesson learned.
Or So I thought.
Happy in my accomplishment, I sent son off to school and set out to my morning duties.
And imagine what did I forget to bring with me? To my bath.
On the day, when I thought I taught my husband a lesson in the morning duties.
Karma -You are a bitch.
Click on one of these and receive a plate full of fish fry. I promise.
For a really long time, I hated my bladder. I had my reasons.
My bladder is too small. Tiny Winy. I have not X-Rayed, measured or seen its capacity, but I know. Either that or it simply doesn’t do what it is supposed to do.. what a waste of space. That too, Inside me.
Why am I sizing up my bladder, why does anything make me hate a part of me?
Am going for a meeting in like anytime now – I have to pee. The meeting is over – I have to pee.
I end my day at the office, but before starting home- I have to pee. In fifteen minutes, I reach home- I put my keys in the keyhole and rush I have to pee.
We are going out, am checking everything that should be checked when we are going out because my husband is too lazy to do it, post for some other day how-to-survive-lazy-husband and point for this post, as the last thing I check- THEN I have to pee.
I just closed the door to go out after checking that needs to be checked when we go out and then I remember I left the light on in the bedroom(Puff) I get back in, switch the light off and THEN I have to pee! Again. Doesn’t matter what I did 2 minutes ago.
Am in a conversation and I can feel it mocking me, chanting “Pee, Pee , Pee” some days in Hindi “Susu susu susu” and I have to pee.
Do you see what the bladder is doing to me?Who do I complain, it’s my own bladder. Can you imagine how many minutes I have spent peeing! Am eyeballing .. 1000000!
I hate to see a washroom because THEN DEFINITELY I have to pee.
I hate when someone says “wait .. I will be just back from the toilet” because I have to follow too .. to Pee. Just, please don’t mention pee in front of me. My bladder hears it and THEN I have to pee. It is like it does not know that it is made to hold yellow looking urine. Instead, it behaves like it is sleeping all time, wakes up and “Oh shit, am flooded, there is yellow water in me, flush it out” and I got to go pee. Bladder, you are supposed to be flooded all the time.
Bloody Bladder – I have to pee now.
Sometimes, before I visit washroom, my biggest fear is What if all of them are occupied.. that means a wait and my bladder is not only small but also impatience. Luckily, am more relaxed peeing in India, because there is always more than one toilet inside the door that says washroom. But this was not so much when I was visiting Europe. There, everywhere it was just one door and that opens up to pee. One at a time. I wonder if it is because all Europeans have big bladder(they are certainly taller than Asians) or that no two have the urge to pee at the same time, low pee rate or simply fewer bladders as such for the small population living there. I will never know.
Most of the time, Every time I pee, I envy boys because, by the context of this post, you should at least guess by now – Why? Why I envy boys. I envy boys, or anyone with a natural flexible hose to let out the jet stream in just three steps- un-zip, pee, and zip up. Wash hands if you want too. Do you know how many steps a girl have to go through…It is a bloody obstacle course!
Feel the need to pee. On a side note, this line “Feel the need to pee” is full of e’s , that is a fun fact.
Go to the washroom , find an empty one. Lucky you.
Unzip ,pull down, sit down. Unzip, here is just one word, but believe me, it is not as easy as writing unzip, especially for Indian ladies wearing Salwar Kameez. Salwar is a pant with a drawstring. For simplicity sake, let’s just say it involves pulling string, THE right drawstring in the right way otherwise I might end up tightening instead of opening. And that my friend, is not a situation you wanna be ever. I have learned my lesson, by supplying scissor to my edgy roommate, at the crucial moments when she really needed to empty but pulled the wrong drawstring. In the end, she had many salwars with no drawstring.
Next step is Pee. Now, I must say , even though am blabbing a lot against pee in this post, this is the time when am most relaxed. Sit down and let it go. It is like the calm after a thunderstorm, it is the feeling that the worst is over. It is also a portal for all gases to be free ( it is not fart, although it is very close) . It is very close to meditation. Who knows , at the rate I pee, I might open pee-meditation classes.
The last step. Zip it up. Check the seat is neat, wipe, clean, wash hands and be done
See, how overwhelming it would be for a girl to pee? A race against time and bladder. It is just pure display of bladder power. I dont know what am I writing. This pee post is really making me pee more.
Be right back. From pee.
More on the topic?
Do not get me started about my trips to the bathroom when I was pregnant. The only other thing that I mastered, apart from farting, during those nine months is how to rush to pee. My boy loved to squeeze my bladder and my bladder was like .. Take all the space you need boy, I have been here my whole life. It was my baby’s first toy. Squeeze, mama moving, mama sitting and finally mama aaahhhing.
Speaking on this topic , I do have a question to all the girls wearing jumpsuits .. you know the type of suit that is an adult onesie, only with a belt.
HOW THE HELL YOU MANAGE TO PEE IN THAT?
I cannot imagine wearing it,because I cannot imagine taking it off every half an hour , I hate to change clothes. In my opinion, strippers must have the most boring job. Take it off one at a time, slowly, seductively. Are you kidding me? Just throw it on the couch and be over with!
Aaah .. I really hated bladder. No wonder this post is already so long.
Now, so how did I become friend with my bladder? What changed my mind?
Starting again , For a really long time, I hated my bladder. Actually up until yesterday.
It so happened that I had a good, sumptuous dinner on Monday, the influence of which was clearly visible up at least until Tuesday noon. I think my stomach stopped working because I could feel the meal sitting there, just sitting. The food was awesome. No stomach would want to digest that. .
So, the lazy self was getting wasted on bean bag all morning, almost all noon when.. I felt it. I felt, the urge to pee. And that was the light bulb moment for me… I do not hate my bladder. It is not bad. It is actually my friend..Did you get it?
My bladder, all this time was actually motivating me to be not lazy, but to get up, go to the bathroom , pee and well, bath while am in the bathroom. It is taking care of me, wakes me up early so I am ready to face the day on time. So I learn to meditate. So I learn to pull the right string. So I am with my friend when she needs me in the toilet, both peeing. So I am active in my life, move around, visit the bathroom. Am healthy because of my bladder today. How could I not see that before? I learned so much in all of my pee trip.
I learned to hold tight and when it is the right time, let go.
Click on one of these and receive a plate full of fish fry. I promise.
I refuse to bow down to any allegation that I could be insidiously annoying this time of the month. I can prove that in none of the conversations, meetings or personal interactions I had this month, I was eating anyone’s brain.
“Oh my god, Am just out from a meeting with H and She was eating my brain over blah blah.”
Nope! That is a lie.
Am a perfect girl this season. One who is suddenly always a great listener, appreciative, conversationalist, never blah blah blahs. I just cannot annoy anyone. For instance, WordPress is saying I have spam comments and I love these comments but it is all spam, I would not want them to be spam, but it is what it is and WordPress is shielding me,helping me and am not complaining…only hoping that someone selling cheap low Viagra online is also a veracious reader who while enhancing life surfs WordPress and comments on my post “Grade A stuff. I’m unquestionably in your debt.” And instead of clicking on “Empty Spam” because WordPress says it is a spam , I bask in that “Grade A, huh .. I must be good“.
Where am I going with all this? Am not eating anyone’s brain…..I cannot be.
(Coughing) Sorry can’t type anymore .. I think I have some part of your brain stuck in my throat.
(Spitting out) But I cannot eat it .. am fasting. Roza.
Girls. If I call them ladies, they might be offended 😉
Salad, only vegetarian like beet, cucumber, sprouts, broccoli .. blah blah. Most of them are vegetarian.I can hardly look at it.
At this point, I imagine many of my readers are offended – Hira, Veg-Salad is also as good as meat.
That’s a lie. And that’s a fact.
PS: I have a confession. I cannot leave any chance to take a dig at my vegetarian friends – on their face, on my blog, in my head (look at them being so excited about rajma-chawla. crazy!). I know I need to see a therapist, a vegetarian one. With a meat eating therapist, we might make more jokes….
“And then he ordered vegetarian biryani, ha ha ha” Pic source- Pixabay.
Come to think of it – I eat chicken, but they, the vegetarians eat the food that was meant for the hen and its family. Food that was to nourish other grass-eating animals. Where is the humanity when you snatch that food out of their plate into yours?
At least, am eating my food. Not others.
Now the counter argument could be how could I be better when I EAT chicken. That sounds even gross than eating the food they eat.
Let’s hear another fact. I eat chicken and fish. So I can only state about chicken and fish. And, I do not consider egg and milk as non-veg, just like many of my vegetarian friends.
“All chicken, all of them are born to be chicken curry or chicken fry or chicken roast blah blah. Chicken is not born to live the life to fullest.They serve a purpose, fulfill their destiny, now it’s time to be fried! By eating chicken, am just playing my part in the larger play of life.Chicken’s life.”
“As for fish, once they are out of the water, certainly cannot survive. I might as well eat to recycle the protein content. I mean, I cannot see food waste.”
Back to original conversation starter-
Girls at my office eat only salad for lunch.
If weight loss is in agenda, I wonder if they have noticed how Cows, Buffalo, Elephants are as compared to meat eating- Cheetah, Panther, Leopard? Hint: size. Pic source- Pixabay.
This eats only grass, just like you.
This eats meat and just look at that perfect figure, slender waist, lean legs and don’t get me started on stamina!
Moral of the post.
Follow cheetah’s diet if you wanna lose weight. Not elephant’s.
Click on one of these and receive a plate full of fish fry. I promise.
At the office, my colleague AbhiSwami started an online chat with three of us. Him, me and SatyaSwami.
AbhiSwami : Hi
Me : Hello
AbhiSwami : Can we meet now to discuss the issue ..blah-blah-blah?
Me : sure, now?
SatyaSwami : Give me 10 minutes.
AbhiSwami : Ok
Me My Head:
“Give me 10 minutes” *pondering*, So what exactly is SatyaSwami implying?
Is it that to discuss the issue, he demand that both of us give him 10 minutes of (stress on next word) OUR time ( I capitalized it just so you see where am going) which will yield HIM 20 minutes of …..time, to be precise, my time. Did you see what he is doing? Blackmail ..In clear text, in broad daylight, at office?!? WTH SatyaSwami!
Chill lady head!
That could be the beginning of something fun. Hey! I have 20 minutes, got it from my colleagues.Sounds like you have wonderful colleagues….
So now that it is implied that AbhiSwami will give him his next 10 minutes, how will he give him that? Stand next to him. Sleep for next 10 minutes, so that SatyaSwami can do whatever he wanted to do without his colleague hovering over his shoulder “Take my 10 minutes”. Should I go join AbhiSwami *realizing he doesn’t know all this yet, certainly this is in my head*, Should I tell him Let’s go and give our time to SatyaSwami? He asked for it “Give me 10 minutes” and it is certainly no blackmail. I have pondered.
Interesting, So is “time” a commodity now? How shall I order it? Boy! Give me a cord, a butterbutcher butter knife, a hand glove, 100mg chloroform, a big gunny sack …. and a pack of 30 minutes?
*Pondering* What shall I do with this extra time and all the stuff along in my order?
Ummm, Why is it green in color ? Oh yes , it has Green Palak.The consistency looks good , not too watery or hard solid. The smell , hmm was good then, but now …
Could you guess the dish am inspecting … Palak panner or Green Thai curry ?
Palak paneer , ofcourse . Nothing beats an indian dish.
After it has come to the end of it’s journey ,which is out of my son’s bum with rest of his potty.
Am happily inspecting his poop.
Head : ewww , yukky …potty from bum?
Yes, he says “Potty comes out of bum” , I think its cute , so wont correct him ever!
So, How did this poop inspection began?
I sometimes look at my poop to see how does a healthy poop looks like , I look closely at his red color poop to see if its beetroot red or blood red .. or worst I might even someday be tempted…
Head : Stop ! I think you have made your point waaaaaaaay too clear about poop inspection!
I can never get tired of looking at it, inspecting it , Not until the day he is old enough to shut me out from poop inspection.
OMG! What have I become ??!
Once upon a time!
Once upon a time , life was good ,mind and body balance. I had perfect set of hormones .
Head :C’on …Why blames hormones for this ?
Well, what else can explain how I , from a happy , normal person turned into this crazy , lame guilty mother.
Hormones , am sure of it ! plenty of it!
Head : Aha , Who was crying , whining for “I want a baby!”
That’s the first hormone , which pumps out saying “Lets have a baby!”. Now why can’t baby making be a simple procedure of “pressing a button” instead of drilling , leaking and aah , the pain !
Head: WHAT, pressing a button ?! Are you sure …
* louder* Can you not imagine if it was just a button ? WOMAN ! DO YOU NOT LIVE IN INDIA??? Don’t you have enough neighbor?
Alright , ummm… take a notch down ..Lets not get into detail, shall we..?
Bringing up a child, will completely change you , in every sense. You, your home and your life roadmap. Perhaps it’s result from the metathesis of hormones that a mother could do things never imagined capable of ……She will have all the patience of galaxy loaded with all the guilt of milky way….am never doing enough. I should have finished this early and go home to co-conspirator and his cute son!
Head : So , husband is conspirator ? What did he do ? You were the one crying….
Of course , husband is responsible for getting me into this , for supporting me in everything .. in sun or rain , drilling and pain!
Why didn’t he tell me that I would change so much that my lungs will pump blood !
Head : The word is oxygen sweetie , Your lung cannot pump blood.
Just raise a child and well , lung will be so busy pumping , that it doesn’t matter what the hell is being pumped – just pump oxygen or blood.. Heart is over-whelmed , nervous , confused and hyperventilating from all cuteness and responsibility around .. that it can’t pump enough.
Change is inevitable and motherhood is a crazy change in lifestyle.
Before you realize , you are anticipating his poop to be of perfect size consistency , more than what you expect your new blouse to fit in.
Head : poop again! , snap out of it ,will you ?
Okay. Point noted. No more poop talk.
Can we talk about fart ?
Adi, my son is a parrot , repeats after me all the time , so no cuss words and can’t even call stupidest things stupid in front of him. But one thing I learned hard way- Do NOT ever ever ever do what you don’t want him to do in public.
Don’t pick your nose , that’s gross. ultra gross.
Don’t fart …..Pleassse.
Head : Weren’t you the one who taught him BOTH at the first place???
well, Of course he learned it all eventually, from the only one time I tried to pick his nose ..
In my defense , I was cleaning his running nose before going to bed so he can sleep better and his fingers are more suited than mine .. Believe me, I have balloon fingers and am lazy to get up for hanky!
Head : WTH! You practically led his hands into nose and showed him to pick the .. and were even proud about it!
Hell Yes! I have tried to teach him many other things approved by civilized society , but he never ever learns those in one shot. This ..nose picking. How the hell would I know that he will master it in one night ?
So that’s the thing , when I least want son to notice , he will put all his focus in that and sometimes even when am blowing drum in front of him ,would ignore. Hide something I wish Adi never ever finds out and he gets it the next minute.You think you were discreet enough , fast like bolt? Too late , he saw it already it, labelled it as “Mummy doesn’t want me to see” and added it to must-be-good check-it-out list.
Head : and what about farting ….
What about it ? C’on that’s human , At least , I taught him to say Sorry! He farts , we laugh , giggle and say out loud Sorrrrrrrryyyyy ! That counts as bonding time between mother and son?
In my defense ,this I believe must be those uncivilized hormones talking which were suppressed since beginning of no-fart-in-public civilization!
What else ?
I can easily sustain prolong exposure to insanity , doing the same thing over and over again without flinching. Adi : Mummy , This is your green car , this is my red car.Lets race !
After 30 minutes:
Adi: Mummy * utho na, wake up * This is your green car , this is my red car.Lets race !
I could do things without actually doing it , at least I didn’t realize my hands are racing again with green car.. I stopped noticing ..It is a routine hands know very well , why do I need to focus my head there ..
OMG , am I a zombie now?
I can play car race , howl like wolf , roar like lions and be a big bad dino for an hour straight without even noticing that am actually a human.
I have lost so many races,fights to him that now I can win race for slowest contender! I earn his laughter.
Everything in my head begins with “Start your engine” and ends with ” Yay!Adi first !”.
Need for speed , Turbo , Bolt Lighting Mc Queen .. definitely triggers something in me when am on my red swish scooter , managing a speed of just 40 miles and I accelerate.. think speed , think 238 miles or worst think crash!
Adi is a typical 3 year old boy , In love with car , bike , trucks , animals …big animals, Dino ! If he were a girl, I guess I would be playing dolls for an hour straight .. umm…., that would have been nice . at least its just sitting at one place not crashing , running around.
Head : Do you want another …..bwwwaah ..second could be a girl.
I will ignore that comment from head.. He shuts down when all game begins..sees no use in doing routine, feels no pain.
Head : He ??! louder Why am I male ? am your head, inside you on top floor woman ! picture me as super hot sexy model , female !
Ignore that one too , how can my head ALONE be super sexy when the rest after child delivery could not go back to its glorious days of size S.
Ignoring and moving ahead ..
Am hypnotized by my 3 year old son…
I love his voice , he has cutest voice of a 3 year old. But nobody was there to tell me this .. I suffered , am still suffering.
Do not, I repeat Do NOT go by the voice , listen to what he is saying..try avoid to look into eyes.. The cuteness is a way of hypnotize mother!! I know , I am.. am completely mesmerized when he asks he something with those eyes and that voice , and I turn stupid ..
In my experience, these are the 2 words to look out for warning signals..
Baad main = Later.
This is even more powerful than legendary “No” . He isn’t refusing to do , he is simply delaying… and that later never comes! Me : Adi , Its time for homework. Adi : Mummy baad mein
Me : Adi , dinner time. Adi : baad mein , now playtime.
He is not asking for more , he is only asking for the last one.. Adi : Mummy I want chocolate. Me : Adi , you just had one before meal. Adi : Mummy , one last . Just last one…
Now when he says this , my heart is overloaded and lungs start pumping. Head : hmm and you oblige by giving him last chocolate the nth time..?
In my defence , am hypnotised by his voice , by his eyes , by his demand! Just because he is such a darling ❤ and am such lame 😦
I wonder if he will ever use these words in right way ever?
Me : Adi , Do you want chocolate?
Adi : No Mummy baad mein…
I often wonder , discuss it with husband .. Does he know the effect of his cuteness on me ? What should I name this one hormone?
Head : i-am-moron hormone ???
Will you stop running and pose for camera?
look at me Adi , Look at the camera
Not so close sweetie 🙂
As a mother , the one compliant which is omnipresent – My son isn’t eating enough. Am not just saying .. I know for fact.. he doesn’t. Food is not important in life of a 3 year old. What can you do?
Something which sometimes work .. is fake it , you show you love it , he will follow the suit! My kid love all pomp pomp , announcement and declaration of love!
So food is not just food , but with a 100 watts excitement , “wow, aaj ka nashta pasta“. Pasta got his attention , at least I will have successful breakfast!
You can find me like a jumping fox with a plate of just plain rice and dal. Every meal should be a discovery , exciting , else son has no interest in what otherwise is very important for living , next only to breathing..
One of these days I forget “not” to be excited and Me : Sweetie , * with 100 volts excitement and all white* Your favorite breakfast – Poha and chai! Husband : Sweetie , Its the same old dish my mother made and her mother before that and ..perhaps goes back to the time of Adam Eve! Whats so exciting??
Am lame , but at least am excited about being lame 😉
Well , there are some good things too ..
My general knowledge has increased two folds , I know all kinds of truck types and cars… I know 5 wild animals and 5 domestic animals , know all the good habits. Do you know all the poems in the world , one where humpty fell down , or bus goes around or clap clap clap ?
I can sleep with eyes open , when it’s my nap time and his play time !
Now I now … know-thee-all hormone.
There is always a trick up his sleeve..put him in any place , he is never bored , will find something amusing.
He will do things with perfection – open the jar , take a chocolate and close it tight. My usual steps are – Open the jar , take a chocolate and full stop.
Just when I realize that my son could play independently and I could do other things , comes the phase of Q&A’s – Why series…
Adi : Mummy what are you doing ? Me : cleaning the floor. Adi : Why are you cleaning the floor? Me : because its dirty. Adi : Why is it dirty ? Me : coz I spilled water. Adi : Why did you spill water? Me : I wasnt looking straight and the glass of water fell….. * Here I restrain myself from using any cuss words Adi: Why were you not looking straight. Me : Because I was looking at TV. Adi :Why were…. Me :Sending SOS signals to husband* Sweetie .. help me!
Sometimes I wonder if he even interested in my answers , or just picks up words , add a What or why and create the next question.
some days its “what will happen” series – Mummy what will happen if I eat chocolate , if I don’t bath , If I throw …
My housemaid is starting to avoid my son when he gets into Q&A mode…I cant do that..Can I ?
My perspective changed, am not the same …
Now an ant , isn’t just an ant doing the hard work and let it do the hard work. Smash! It’s a bloody ant , can bite Adi and must be killed!
I can laugh over silly things , coz his laugh is infectious , it spreads even when he isn’t around. Be excited about stupid things. A dog isn’t just a dog but “Mummy Cute dog na”? Everything is cute in his world.
Now this is the deadliest one , coz this will makes my son look like the cutest smartest , handsome with a million dollar smile , twinkle in eye 3-year-old boy living on planet earth. And when love hormone is released ,he can absolutely demand and say anything and I will oblige.
Head : This is happening way too frequently these days .. control your senses. How can you give him chocolate when he hasn’t finished his homework.
Did you see his eyes when he was asking for chocolates ? Do you know how much he makes me happy just being him .. jumping , screaming , running , smiling ..laughing and asking for chocolate?
My son will have chocolate !
And with that all the hormones are released in my body!
Click on one of these and receive a plate full of fish fry. I promise.