It’s late evening, Nani and G’pa are exhausted after a day of chasing two little demons. They buy themselves a reprieve by bribing them with two little foil wrapped chocolates. But one little pair of greedy eyes isn’t content with it. It looks up behind Nani at the shelf where a box holds some more foil wrapped chocolates and badly wants some more.
Bean: Nani, would you like to give me something shiny and red from your shelf?
Nasty Nani (brusquely): No, it is almost dinner time and I don’t want to give you anything shiny, red, purple, blue, or green.
The Bean takes a walk around the room, thinking over her strategy. She returns.
Bean: Nani, would you like to think again, about giving me something shiny and red from your shelf?
Nani: I am not thinking about anything at all, thank you very much.
Bean takes a walk around the room and returns: Nani, I’d really like you to give me something red and shiny from your shelf.
Nani gives up all attempts at discipline and hands over the red, shiny thing.
Since the kids are there for 3 weeks and most kids tend to forget everything during school holidays, Nani and G’pa have been given strict instructions on giving the babies some colouring or writing to do everyday. Life being the way it is, the grandparents refuse to make their grandchildren study and a sweet tempered teacher from Chhota Nana’s nursery school is asked to come over and teach/play with the Brat for an hour everyday so that he doesn’t come back to Delhi like a slate wiped clean. The poor teacher has been run ragged and all because the Brat is finally living up to his nick. Home is no place for a teacher to be, he believes and so he is well within his rights to refuse to study.
The teacher on the other hand is doing her best to befriend the Brat before moving on to an education. “Can we be friends?” she asks.
Brat appraises her height and says: No, grown ups and small people can’t be friends.
Teacher promptly kneels down so that she is his height: There, now you and I are both small people. Can we be friends now?
Brat ponders, then climbs up on the bed so that he is higher than her and says: Not really. Now I am a grown up and I don’t want to be friends with a small person.
Having been told by Brat’s old school that we were turning him into a social retard (in pretty much so many words) we tried to remedy it by showing him cartoons that his peers might be watching and so on and so forth. The Calvin-ish Brat suddenly confronted with super heroes took to them with a vengeance and nowadays its impossible to hold a conversation with him because he only responds to the name of Batman. He has owned Batman underwear for at least two years but paid it no heed until now. A few days ago I came home to a crimson faced maid who on questioning responded that she refuses to be seen in public with the Brat. He has in all innocence been pulling down his shorts and lifting up his teeshirt to show an unwilling audience his Batman underwear and vest!
Nani and G’pa took them to Banaras over the weekend and as they hopped out of the car and walked into the hotel, the hotel staff greeted them and asked them their names.
I’m Batman, says the Brat.
And I’m Catwoman, says the Bean.
When told that they need haircuts, the Brat only agreed to go after being told that it would be a Batman haircut. The Bean gave it some thought and said she’d only go if she got a Poison Ivy haircut. *rolls eyes*
And the piece de resistance, an unsuspecting kitten who wandered into Nani-G’Pa’s garden has been kidnapped and locked up in their bedroom and each time Nani suggests setting it free, the babies throw themselves on the floor and sob like their hearts are breaking. It’s been named – BatCat.
Also, for all the mommies reading this, almost all of us have had acute cases of mommy guilt. Go here and participate in a contest by telling your mommy guilt story. You might just win something! Hurry, there’s barely a week to go!