It's just not really been my week.
First, I lost my phone and all the Peanut pictures on it. That was not very nice.
The same evening, I thought I would cheer myself up by watching my newly purchased VCD of the Harry Potter 'Order of the Phoenix'. Shocking that I haven't seen it yet, I know, but I've been a bit busy raising a baby. Anyhow, I purposefully unwrapped the CD, opened up the cover, and while taking Disc 1 out, snapped it neatly in half. I gazed at the two pieces just lying there silently, taunting me with their indifference. I think my eyes may have welled up in tears.
I went over to Vijay, who was trying to take a nap, and woke him up to show him the pieces. 'Can you fix this?', I asked hopefully.
He looked at them and said slowly 'No...'
I was aghast. 'But you are an engineer. Can't you glue it together or something?'
He could see I was not to be diverted. 'Okay, leave it there, Honey, I'll try later', he said, while turning over and pulling his pillow firmly over his head.
Why are men such liars?
I was going to blog about my recent trips to the dentist but have decided it is too painful right now as the memory is fresh. However, suffice it to say I am debating with myself which has been the lowest point of the week. It could be any of the instances below:
a. When the dentist injected the anaesthetic into my gum, so that I felt nothing when he was hacking away at my teeth. No, no, that part was good. The bad part was when he instructed me to rinse my mouth out. Everything was all numb and I couldn't move my jaw properly - the long and short of it is that I missed the basin completely and spat right on the dentist's immaculately maintained wall. It was not my finest moment. Judging from the dentist's silence, it wasn't the best part of his day either.
I'm sure this happens to everyone - although Vijay claims it hasn't ever happened to him. But then, men are liars.
b. Since my temporary crowns keep coming loose for some bloody reason, I've had to make two otherwise unnecessary trips all the way across town, with my baby in tow - driving for a total of 3 hours each time, for just 10 minutes work, because only the glue or cement or whatever-it-is had to be fixed.
I am still waiting for my permanent crowns to arrive. In desperation, my dentist has given me a spatula, a square plastic mixing base, two tubes to mix together to form the glue/cement/whatever-it-is, and an instrument with a menacing hook.
An apparent admirer of my husband, he said 'Just ask Vijay to mix these together and put the crown back for you'. I was thinking 'Yeah, right. This is the stuff divorces are made off'.
And then he added 'But I'm sure this time it won't come off'. I was thinking the now familiar thought 'Why are men such liars?'
c. The second trip I made to get it fixed, my cousin Mini accompanied me, handling the baby in the dentist's office. While Peanut behaved admirably there, she now appears to hate her car seat and we had an extremely harrowing time with her bawling in the car.
I had to ask Vinod to stop the car on the way back, so that I could take her out and calm her down. It was quite hot, there was the sound of honking and traffic all around, and my nerves were rather frayed. But Peanut began to calm down as I swayed her in my arms, back and forth. Mini looked out at us from the front seat. She slowly got out of the car and approached us. By this time, Peanut was almost asleep. I started to feel calmer myself, as my big sister approached with apparent tenderness at this loving scene of mother and baby, rocking back and forth, a small bubble of peace in all the chaos of the outside world. Mini leaned in close to the two of us, and whispered in my ear to inform me 'Your fly is undone'.
d. But I have to say, it might just be this one that was my lowest moment - when my crown actually came off for the second time. I was on the phone talking to the nice lady at Yatra.com, booking tickets for Mini, when I felt a sneeze coming on. It was a particularly violent one that came in the middle of a sentence wherein I was informing the Yatra lady that the booking reference number was 'T for Taxi...V for Vijay...'. The force of the sneeze that arrived in the middle of a sentence, sent my crown suddenly flying across the room.
This was embarassing enough as it is, but was made worse by my lovely cousin, insisting on scrambling to retrieve it. In general, you don't want other people to be picking up bits of your teeth, temporary or otherwise, and I'm sure it's not a load of fun for them either. Anyway, the nice Yatra lady was saying, politely and charmingly 'Bless You, Ma'am'. I wanted to hit her but being reasonable, I realized it was not her fault, and anyway, she was safe on the other end of the line.
I also realize as I type this that I've made myself sound like quite an idiot. Well, the truth of the matter is, I rather am. But tell me, seriously, tell me - this stuff DOES happen to everyone, right? Right? Right? (She implored)
For now, I've had a brilliant idea, and I'm going to try using the dentist's 'base paste & catalyst paste' and other equipment to glue my Harry Potter CD together.