It’s raining and the Brat is quietly looking out. Rain in the hills is always awe-inspiring. I ask him what is fascinating him and he says in an awed voice – The lightning scribbles.
After a while the Bean points out that it is no longer raining. Merely ‘grizzling’.
Dear God, please don’t let anyone correct them.
The Bean calls out to me – Mama, would you come and take a look at the size of this spider?!!!
I run down ready to whack the spider with something if she’s scared.
She’s crouched on her haunches, watching it weave a web.
“Shall I whack it?” I ask, brandishing a duster.
No, I want to keep it as a pet, like the fish in the bowl!!
Err.. okay then.
And that ladies and gentlemen is why in my otherwise spotless house we have a spider lazily sipping Long Island Tea.
The Bean draws a picture of the family. Brat, Mama and herself. I look at the family of three and ask – where is Dada?
She looks at me with a don’t-you-know-anything-at-all look on her face.
He’s in your stomach, of course!
Ye Gods and little fishes, I may not be a great teacher, but what the hell are they teaching her in school? Or should I just be hitting the gym?
The Brat drags all his toys to my bedroom while I’m working, not really noticing how much he’s bringing in.
Once he’s done, he looks around with genuine concern and disgust and says “Mama! What a mess your room is. Why don’t you tidy it up.”
The Brat looks at an old picture of the OA and I – “Do we look nice ” I ask “This is even before Mama and Dada got married and had babies.”
He shrugs. “You look nice but you don’t look beautiful.”
*horrified gasp” I don’t?
“No, you only look beautiful when you wear nice clothes like sarees and bindis.”
Great – now I have Ekta Kapoor’s emissary living in my house.
Bean chips in, “I think you need to get married again and have some more babies.”
Sure. That’s a plan. So that I lose the last couple of functional joints and my three strands of hair.