Monday, November 16, 2015

Conversations with Some Random Kids I Made

(Crossposted from my Facebook page here)

Part 1: 

We're trying to get ready to go for my brother-in-law's birthday party and I'm very hassled because the kids are running here and there and refusing to get ready.
I spot Pickle fiddling with something and shout 'Pickle! Why aren't you getting ready?'
He looks up at me, chin quivering, with big innocent eyes. It takes him a moment but he swallows and manages. 'I'm packing for Shaunak-Uncle party, aren't I?'
I'm immediately chastened. 'Sorry, son. Go ahead. You finish packing and then we will go.'
'Thank you.' He pulls himself up to his full height and says with the greatest of dignity. 'Have you seen my Stapler?'
On the way, I can see the kids are falling asleep. So I try to divert their minds.
'And so, when we're older, Mum and Dad will live with Pickle for the first four months of the year....with Peanut for the next four and with Papad for the last few months. Right?'
Papad chimes 'What will be in mine?'
I understand because we've had this conversation before. 'Christmas. We'll be celebrating Christmas in yours, and Diwali, of course, and...we'll have presents for your kids too...'
I notice that Papad looks very worried. I sigh. 'Now what, son?'
'I don't wan to have a baby.'
'Why?' I ask gently.
'Because when they cut my tummy open, it will HURT.'
I realize there may be a fundamental error in education here. But before I can say anything, Peanut pipes up irritatedly.
'Oofff Papad! Boys don't have babies, only girls do.'
'Yes, that's right.' I confirm, smiling at him reassuringly.
'Why boys can't have baby?' Papad asks.
'Well...' I really don't feel ready for this right now. 'It's like that only, beta. Even amongst animals if you see, it's always the female who has the babies, and...'
Peanut, interrupting with the most heart-felt anguish, holding her head dramatically 'WHY? WHY is it always US?'

Part 2: (An earlier post)

I'm riding in the car with my twin sons after some shopping.

Papad suddenly says, a worried frown on his face ''Don't grow old and die, Mummy.''
Pickle ''Don worry Papad. Girls don't grow old. Only boys do.'
Me ''Uh, well, that's not really true, Pickle. Everyone grows old and ...that's just the way life is.''
Papad clings to my arm and cries ''Noooooo''
Pickle stands firm. ''No, girls don't grow old. I know dat.''
Me, tickling Papad's chin comfortingly. ''How do you know dat, I mean that?''
''I never seen.'' says Pickle.
Me ''Of course you've seen old women as well as old men, Pickle!''
Pickle, with a crafty look on his face ''I seen old wimmin but never an old GIRL.''
Papad is still looking traumatized, so I just try to change tacks with ''Well, by the time I grow old, you guys will be all grown up, right? And Papad will be a pilot!''
Papad immediately looks happier and so I press on ''And he will wear a uniform and look so handsome, right?''
He starts to beam, and I'm encouraged ''And he will fly planes to America and Canada and...''
Suddenly, the exact same worried frown is back on Papad's face.
I pause uncertainly.
My little son confesses ''But I don know the WAY.''
I explain that they'll have maps to be able to tell the way.
Pickle ''I know which way is left and right.'' He holds up his right hand proudly and says ''dis is LEFT, hai na?''
''Oooh, look'' I point out ''a train!''.
Thankfully, we're reaching home now.

1 comment:

Hi there. Go on, say it. Well? WELL?