Aging like wine

Dear old man,

You turn 35 today. Funnily it doesn’t bother me as much as your turning 30 did. I was young and excitable and I spent days planning your birthday party.  Now I know better. I know you enjoy nothing more than a quiet dinner with me. Well it could also be because you’re falling apart at the seams whereas 5 years ago you were dancing till the early hours of the morning and getting very drunk!

Happy Birthday… the hair may be greying but as I watch you shake with laughter, hugging your kids and watching Madagascar, I know the heart is still as young.

I’m glad I am back at work (albeit flexitime) because I can afford to buy you your gift.

When I took you to the store to choose your LCD TV, you overshot my budget by oh… just about 100%. Let it never be said that you have poor taste. *ahem, koff, koff*  Which is why you glanced at the 32 inch TV I had offered as a gift and then looked at the big 42 inch one wistfully.

In that one second you reminded me of the Brat who looks at things wistfully and doesn’t always ask for them. And then I knew that it didn’t matter how many months it set me back by, you would have the TV you wanted.

And so we took it, while you hemmed and hawed and looked guilty. I felt terrible. Terrible that you felt guilty at indulging yourself. You have the typical Indian elder son syndrome – Indulge the family and deny yourself.

Well darling, those days are over. In this home we’re equal. And you will no longer be denying yourself anything if I can afford it. Yes, we have the kids and we love them and we want the best for them. But there is nothing so earth shakingly urgent that requires us to deny ourselves everything we like.

This TV is just the beginning. I hope to indulge you in ways you haven’t ever imagined.. *koff koff* and then some. You’ve slogged your butt off to give me and the kids security, love, comfort and a home we love.

The last 35 years were about you taking care of your parents, wife and kids. The next 35 are going to be about all of us putting you first. So put your feet up, get a cool beer, sit back and chill and let life begin.

And oh – since I’ve managed to get you to be less uptight about matters of the heart … I can say it out in the open…

I love you, old man.

Still,

Smitten

PS: Yes, this is the way you three look when you watch TV. In tiers. Funny how the littlest is always at the bottom of the pyramid.

And oh.. wanna dance? I dedicate this Tom Jones number to you. Who says you can’t subvert the whole sex bomb concept? Yeah, take that Tom Jones!!