* Three weeks ago, Peanut decorates the walls of our (rented) home - with artistic scribblings using a ballpoint pen. Vijay thinks it is very cute. I think otherwise. The K , who was apparently supervising with a beatific smile while we were at work, says 'Kya karoon...baby rone lagta...bahut mushkil'.
* Two weeks ago, Peanut draws with a blue crayon on our music system, and just for added fun, also scribbles on the floor in rangoli style. After a lot of scrubbing it comes off. The K says 'Kya karoon...bahut mushkil'.
* Last week, I find on our drawing room wall, a clear attempt at her artistic endeavours, this time with a black crayon. The K pretends not to have seen it. ' Hoodibaba! Yeh to maine dekha hi nahin'
* At my mom's place last week, Peanut is being babysat by my sister and her friend, apart from the ubiquitous and ever-reliable K. At one point, the ever-reliable K hands her a bunch of sketchpens and deposits her in the room where my sister and friend are busy playing Prince of Persia. Peanut uses a bright green sketchpen to draw on my mother's precious sofa ( which happens to be a delicate shade of pale cream, joy of all joys!). My sister and friend look up at one point to see Peanut innocently looking at them with a green mark on her little nose. To their horror, they uncover the damage. The rest of the evening is spent with a couple of rags, soapy water and lots of fervent cursing and 'Mom's going to kill us'.
The Joy, the inimitable Joy of a Toddler.
( Incidentally, I was enjoying some piping hot Chicken soup last night when Peanut decided it was time for me to breastfeed her. She came charging at me, banged her head into the soup bowl, and the piping hot soup fell all over my front - and it was searingly, blindingly hot for a couple of seconds after which I pretty much lost all sensation. Vijay spent the next few minutes insisting looking for Burnol, finally settling for rubbing Lactocalamine on me. I still have the unnatural tan under my shirt. It's great, really)
I love it.