The best place to yell.

Teaching a story to a six year old for his story telling competition after returning from crazy work days is like sticking my head into a beehive. Especially with my curious son who has a thousand questions to ask starting from the origin of the story and the author. Humpy the camel walked down the desert with his mother. ‘If Humpy is the name of the baby camel, what is the name of the Mama Camel?’

‘Her name is Anita..! ANEEETAAAAAA…!!!!Now can we proceed?!!!!!’  -

The doctor next door would have definitely heard this. Next time I visit him at his office, he will start writing out a prescription without asking any questions.

My edgy responses laced with sarcasm, shrill voice and raised eyebrows mostly evokes suppressed laughter from the little boy. Even my most serious conversations and advice are met with laughter and mockery by both the guys in the house. I am happy to be raising a boy who is unaffected by high decibel levels of a highly impatient mama and remains cool as a cucumber. Surely he will work with any hot tempered boss.  The hubby also does not remember what I said five minutes ago. If these guys can manage my crazy moods and high decibel levels and still insist to have me around all the time, then this is exactly what differentiates family from others.

Whenever I make a serious conversation at home, both the guys look at each other, then at me and start murmuring. The hubby guy has a habit of making jokes at hospitals and churches. I am the only person who laughs inappropriately at such places when the man who cracked the joke acts as if he is not related to me, making me look like a complete loser who has no sense of surroundings. Then there are others who take my jokes seriously. Like for example a college mate who needed explicit clinical bifurcation between jokes, facts, information and general loose talk. There is an element in our DNA which identifies them automatically, which was missing in her.

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 I have always looked up to people like my Dad who never responds to negative criticism or even insults directed towards him. We feel like losers when there are disagreements because he does not put up a fight and let us win. He forgives, forgets and most of all does not let anything affect him. These are all biblical qualities which we should NOT try to imitate at any cost (as we may become better people, this evil society does not deserve such people).

If I am not taken seriously by the boys back home, I think that is the best. They don’t remember why I yelled at them last evening.

Because the socks are still stuck inside the shoes and both don’t seem to care. Surely they don’t remember it today, and they will not carry it forward for years to come and judge me for it.

Family is the best place to yell: D

Xmas Hustle.

I can’t seem to remember the month of December 2017, so I am guessing that I may have been in a coma which no one is speaking to me about. I do remember the Xmas cakes and garlic breads straight out of my Moms oven melting in my mouth gulped with generous amounts of wine. Christmas, as usual, was spent with my people in peace, love, music and lots of food. I earned this break after slogging and stressing out in office trying to reach somebody’s insanely impossible goals and timelines.

I applied for a month vacation, and my boss was highly amused at my great expectations. She cut it down to ten working days. My husband was allowed more leave and he said ‘Bye, Roomie, Merry Xmas’ and went on his way. Well, my son and me had the best time ,did our Xmas shopping, ate countless tubs of popcorn, watched late night Disney, slept and woke up on our terms. It was such a jolly good time without rules and husband ! Finally the day of travel arrived. I was supposed to leave office a bit early as it was busy Xmas season, traffic was slow moving towards the airport and the flight dint belong to my Dad. I targeted to leave by 4:00 pm.

Meanwhile some logically-challenged guys at office requested project related training at 3:00 pm. I had to pack bags, weigh them, get food for my son, dress him, lock all doors, switch off TV and Gas, arrange documents, remind the driver for airport drop, pay the cleaner, park my car somewhere safe, handover keys to neighbor to water my microscopic and malnourished plants in my absence, lock bedroom doors amongst many other things.

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As I had emptied my fridge and every meal had to be arranged, I came towards my car in the afternoon with a thousand things running in my head and official calls ringing continuously. I found a car parked perpendicular to mine, completely blocking any forward movement. Who on earth parks like this as if I abandoned my car there? All hell broke loose in my head. My animal instincts woke up. I rang up a colleague who usually parks adjacent to mine and blurted ‘Hey do you know which stupid is the owner of this purple Mazda? What kind of ..what ..what nonsensical…’ …I searched for words to complete my sentences. He said ‘Anita first of all calm down, you can find him at___’ I cut the call and made an angry walk towards the human who was doomed to be at the receiving end of my wrath.

He was happily joking in his cubicle oblivious of the fire he started. I said ‘Can you move your car from there?’ What I really wanted to say  was ‘Hey pea-brained useless creature! You better move your damn car out of that place else I will scratch it with my keychain!’. To be honest I am the useless creature whose mouth goes against her brain. The guy who heard me loud and clear said… ‘I wrote my number there…dint you see?’ Oh well ! Now he expects me to walk around his car and find his number and call him whenever I have to go somewhere? Dude, I don’t even call my husband whenever I start my car. I replied to him. ‘NO!’. He looked at me closely, measuring the rising mercury levels and quietly moved his ridiculously flashy car. The fire that started in my head couldn’t be extinguished.

Later the training started at 3:00 pm and the trainees had segregated all the doubts in the world to ask me. I kept talking and simultaneously looking at my watch every five seconds trying to signal the crowd that I am not interested. However they seemed to be brimming with a thirst for knowledge. Finally I scraped through that meeting around 4:10pm. Later everything happened in a blur, packing, tidying, locking etc. , and soon we were on our way to the airport.

Wearing similar tee shirts and jackets, my son and I cuddled in the backseat of the car, when he looked up at me and asked. ‘Ma did you take the passports and ticket?’

‘Yes I did, baby’. I said confidently, after having successfully sailed through a busy day alone.

‘Are you sure ma?’