This Sunday Dhruva and dodamma had come over. Dhruva loves KFC. Correction: He loooves KFC. So dad and I decided to take him to the KFC outlet near our house so he could place an order himself (he gave us a long list of items that I honestly couldn’t remember). What ensued is total movie material. He walked up to the counter, placed his order, went to the takeaway section and stood waiting. I wish that was it. But no. He is a live wire you see. After a couple of minutes (seconds?) he started shouting “Where’s my order?” I had to drag him out of there and think of all possible innovative ideas to keep his little brain occupied.
Me: Have you watched Fast and Furious?
Me: Which one?
He: Part 2.
Me: What’s it about?
Me: What happens next?
He: They win.
He (beginning to get restless): Anyone. Why are they taking so long? Is our order ready?
Me: Count from 1 to 10, in words.
He obediently counts from one to ten.
Me: Now count backwards.
He does that too.
“Will we get our order?”
Me: Which is our national anthem? (I know, it sounds incredulous)
He: Jana gana mana
*runs to the counter, bangs fists on the table shouting, where’s my order*
At this point the lady at the counter was considerate enough to give him a chocolate to calm him down.
After what seemed like eons, our order was ready. The wait was finally over! Needless to say, Dhruva was on cloud nine. I was beyond relieved.
Moral of the story: Never take Dhruva to KFC when you want to order a takeaway.
Monday already! Three more weeks until we shift to a new office. Oh, how I dread the commute! On the upside, THREE MORE WEEKS of bliss here. Let’s worry about the future when we have to, right?
I came back home exhausted as hell.
Ma: Here, eat some cucumber.
I hungrily gobble up everything.
Ma: Would you like to eat some oranges?
Me: I’m full, maybe later.
Me: Noo. I’ll have dinner.
(after dinner) Ma: If you feel hungry at night eat some rice with curry.
There is also *two or three or four more items I don’t remember* in the fridge.
Me: MAAAA! Okay.
Mom never ceases to amaze me. Here I am, working a mere 8 hours a day and complaining of fatigue and then there’s mom, working tirelessly and taking care of the family and showering us with love AND being awesome. 24 x 7 x 365
I wonder if I can be like her.
Can I put others’ needs before my own?
Can I toil day and night, for nothing but gratitude in return?
Can I care without expectation?
Can I give selflessly?
I can only aspire to be half the person that she is.
No superhero like mom. I love my wonderwoman.