Sorry about the nail biting tension. This is how the stubbornness story ends.
As it happens, I waited for about an hour and then went hunting for the Brat. He was sitting quietly in his room with a book. I figured that he is still young enough for me to talk him through this. So we did the usual – Are you feeling sad? What did Dada say? Do you think he was right? Should you have done what you did? Are you sorry? Do you want to tell him so?
He went and apologised to his father and we helped him dig his stuff out of the trash. Thankfully it had just been emptied and had a fresh liner so it was fine. Alls well that ends well.
I was out picking up groceries and as I walked back I noticed a couple of young mothers with their babies on the swings. Too young to be in school, the babies don’t get a chance once the school goers get back and being a grey morning it wasn’t unbearable out in the open. All the mothers, without fail, were on their phones. Either talking or messaging or checking email.
On a slide was a woman with a little boy in her lap, flying down, squealing with joy. It was a maid. I wondered if it was her own baby and then I realised the child was very well dressed and she was referring to him as ‘aap’ and telling him something about his mummy.
It’s funny. I may not have had too many good experiences with maids but here was a maid actually spending quality time with the child and engaging with him while other parents absentmindedly did their duty, not really focusing on the children. No judgment. I’m sure they spend enough and more time and deserve their time off. Just an observation.
I also passed an old grandfather walking his grandson back from school. The child spoke with an American accent and the gentleman spoke slowly, laboriously hunting for the right words. I walked alongside, swinging my bags, shamelessly eavesdropping. Life sometimes gives you the opportunity to see love and understanding only as a bystander and I don’t see the harm in grabbing those moments. I’ve noticed that a lot older people who have grandchildren visiting/ returning from abroad insist on focussing on language and culture as though that is the only and most important thing that needs to be passed on. I don’t know the history, but it was so sweet to see that the old gentleman was only interested in communicating and building a relationship with the grandchild. Even if it meant him taking the first step forward and learning a new language in his old age. So beautiful. This is the kind of selfless love I’m hoping to be capable of someday.