Eureka

I once read somewhere that the biggest advantage of being unorganized is that you are constantly making new discoveries or, as I have found to my delight, rediscovering old things.
The joy of coming across something you had thought lost forever can only be experienced by the messy. The well organized have no clue as to how much pleasure even a simple random discovery can give.
My latest discovery was made while going though the accessories of a food processing machine that hadn't seen the light of the day for several years.It was a long lost graduated cylinder that measures the precise amount of water to be poured into an egg boiler. I have already mentioned on my blog that with out this cylinder my fancy egg boiler had become pretty much useless.
Well it is not useless anymore.
So soft boiled, medium boiled, hard boiled or any kind of eggs that one could possibly wish to have can now be made to order.
Breakfast anyone?

H Plus

All kids mispronounce a few words when they are little but my daughter was a champion at it. She had an entire list of words that she would twist in her mouth. The funny thing was that her mispronunciations were catchier then the actual words themselves.
For instance Kamra (room) was pronounced as Karma. Chakkar (dizziness) would become Kachar, Chocolate was Chlokate and so on. The best one was perhaps Katchpali which was her version of the word Chipkali (lizard). Since there was an abundant number of those surrounding the porch light during the evenings, the word was uttered with persistent frequency.
I thought she had out grown this habit until she came to me today saying that Nana is asking for an “H Plus”.
And I was like …..What?
Turned out Nana had asked for a Pech Kus (screw driver)
Took me a while (not to mention a consultation with Nana himself) to figure that one out

Still Eight and a Half

It turned out that the reason my daughter had asked for all her toys to be removed was not because she had grown too old for them but because she was sick and tired of picking them up and cleaning the room after having played with them (which incidentally she never did).
So the deal now is that if I want the toys to stay in her room, I am going to have to do the tidying up.
This is what I call taking black mail to a new level.
Since I was cleaning up after her anyway, what makes tidying up now any different from before? The difference is that now I have lost the right to even chide her for being messy.
Boy! these eight and a half year olds sure know how to twist you around their little finger.

All Grown Up

My little girl just asked me to pack up all her toys.........and I am left thinking "where did this come from?"
Has she grown up so much that she does not need them anymore?

She is only eight and a half years old.

I suppose my constantly telling her to stop being babyish was to eventually have some kind of effect, though my intention had been to get her to be a little more well behaved, not discard her childhood altogether.
Nevertheless, after applauding her mature decision I did as she asked. I brought out cardboard boxes to put all her toys in but when it came to actually doing it, I could not do it.(Now who is being immature?)

I know I am being silly but to me those toys are a symbol of her childhood and it can’t be over yet: not at eight and half. I Know she is going to outgrow her playthings eventually, if not now then in a couple of years. It is part of life and there is no reason to feel depressed about it.
And yet I am depressed.
I have two other kids in their teens who have definitely left their childhood behind. I did not feel half as depressed at their time as I do now. Perhaps because in both their cases I still had a younger child following behind to focus all my attention on.

This time I know it’s all going to be over for good. All those hugs, kisses and cuddles are going to be steadily reduced till they disappear altogether. One night before going to bed I will suddenly realize that I have not had a hug, kiss or cuddle all day long. My child has not even once run up to me crying or upset because she no longer believes that I am the only one in the world who can solve all her problems.
My dethronement from the world’s most important person status will be permanent this time.
So what am I going to do?
Simple
I am going to use all my persuasive powers and talk her out of putting away her stuff for now.
I suppose I am behaving like an ostrich, avoiding reality by dunking my head in the sand. But I can’t help it. I can't deal with this reality right now, may be I will able to do in another couple of years (or maybe in another 18 or 20 years) but not now.
Most definitely not now.

Decelarating Time

I have discovered the secret to slowing time down, something guaranteed to make it go by at a snail’s pace.
And the secret is to stop eating.
This is not a joke. The best way to slow down time is to GO ON A DIET.
I started mine about a month ago and it is still only day seven.
Believe me it works. How else would I have managed to stretch my week to over a month?
Well my diet is almost over. The best part of it was that it was only a seven day plan so today is last day of my diet.
I will leave the complex workings of the Time Universe relationship to geniuses like Stephen Hawking and like. As for myself I am going to celebrate the end of a torturous near starvation week by having a Paratha with a huge fluffy omelet for breakfast tomorrow morning.

Guess I was wrong.
Spring is here after all.
So I suppose it should be Bienvenue Spring
:-)

Bienvenue Summer

According to schedule this should have been Spring but I think Mother Nature muddled up her time table this year because it seemed to have jumped straight from Winter to Summer skipping the season of merry blossoms altogether. It seems impossible that barely few days ago I was huddled under the blanket at night and now I can not bear to be in a room with out the fans turned on.

With the advent of summer another thing is back along with the heat and that thing is none other than the arch enemy of mankind’s night time slumber, commonly referred to as the MOSQUITO.

After a particularly disturbing night I was reminded of a long ago conversation I had with a friend who lived on the 15th floor of a high rise building. Since mosquitoes have limited flight capability I had assumed, somewhat naively, that our friend’s family would be safe from their persistent nocturnal attacks.

Not so, he told me, “We suffer at their hands just at much as you guys do”

But how on earth did they reach his high floor, I had asked him.

“Same way every body else does”, he retorted in an exasperated voice, “They take the elevator to which ever floor they want to go to”

It was such a comfort to know everyone suffers the way we do.

So Coils, repellants, nets, sprays and every thing else that had been so gratefully put aside during winter months is back in action again.

What a way to welcome summer.