Playgroup Files..

Few days ago we played the songs from ‘Kites’ at home. Just like that.

 The next day I spotted my two year old on the sofa, laid back and legs crossed, singing ‘Zindagi…’ ! The only thing missing was a bottle of beer for that Devdas effect.

 

Zindagi....Do pal ki...

The transition from daycare to play group has been obvious in the verbal front. Like potty time and bath time are infused with enchanting nursery rhymes( not very apt to the situation, though). But we are not complaining. That however doesn't mean that everything is fuss-free. Taking off the pajamas before bath is the toughest part which usually the hubby handles. Mostly Kolaveri Di takes care of it. (More power to Kolaveri Di. I don’t know what I’d do without it).But there are days even Dhanush fails to entertain. That is when the bunnies at Bunny party arrive. We have different songs for the varying degrees of fussiness, which in turn proves that we are masters of the art, in raising tough babies whose main motive is to make life difficult. No offense to any babies whatsoever by why do they fuss!

Dropping him at school on mornings is a strength test between my clothes and his fist. Letting his fist win is turning up at office in torn clothes. That wouldn't have any effect on my appraisal though. There are no cries or screams accompanied with this pulling of clothes and clinging on, but it is only a ritual he practiced since his first day there.  In the evenings, the hesitation is to go home. By this behavior his nanny might have thought that we are subjecting him to child labor or something.

When he was in daycare, he had a cute female play mate. Her cute face was only a guise- she was in fact a female baby goon and my son was scared of her. The very sight of this girl made him go WAAAAAAAAHHHH which burst the eardrums of a few sleeping babies. He thought of her like a ferocious Rottweiler. But one day I sneaked in at snack time and found him eating French fries from her tiffin. Obviously there seems to be no fear while stealing junk food. End of the day I look like the bad, bad mother who packs scrambled eggs and steamed bananas in his tiffin. Damn good eating habits. I was told by his nanny that the little female goon was very fond of my son's lunch which generally consists of rice. End of the month the goon gains height, weight and intelligence like the kids in bright orange t shirts in those Horlicks ads. My son is that kid in grey t shirt who never grows because he generously distributes his lunch to junk food eaters.

Waking up at 5:00 am and packing a wholesome lunch to – God knows who. That must be some destiny I am living.  Anyway I pack a bit extra food so that no one is hungry after lunch time. Sigh. Babies are thankless. Really. They take everything for granted. Wait till I send him to hostel when he is 20. I will NOT be answering any PHONE calls either.   

So today morning as I dropped him at school, the teachers were warming up the kids by singing action songs. It was a song that my son knew too.. soon he joined them, but later walked to the side of the room and started hanging out with few other toddlers and laughing. That is an early sign of a backbencher syndrome. Oh well, considering the fact that both his parents were notorious backbenchers I don’t expect an Einstein of him.