Category Archives: Family circus


It has been a while since I bragged and humiliated my little one.  Since it is in the fineprint of the mothering manual, which must not be forgotten, I am doing this. I hope you understand that I am merely doing what is expected of me.

I started reading to my kid when she was 12 days old. I believe I read PGWodehouse to her as she peed and pooped when she wasn’t suckling or sleeping.  Then, when her eyes began to focus, I read Tintin and Amar Chitra Kathas to her, so she could see the pictures and colors.  Then we graduated and by the time she was two, I was reading Enid Blyton to her, and one of the first things she told me when she had started talking was, let’s have an English breakfast like the Famous Fives.  By four, she could read, and didn’t need my droning voice anymore and anytime anyone suggested outing, she said “bookstore”.

But that’s not the brag (well, it is, but you know…). She started writing creative stuff when she was five.  Seeing her love for writing, I started a blog for her when she was six, and she wrote extensively in it.  She still has the blog, and recently, she privatised all her old posts (she wanted to delete them because “amma, they are so immature and kiddish” but I told her to merely privatize it because I want to show these posts to my grandchildren) and revamped her blog into a typical teenage repository of hormone-induced, often funny banter.

Am sharing the blog here (see above link)….just so you can check it out.

End of brag.

Third degree

The kid recounts her dream:

“Someone called Dia stole a train, but the cops thought it was me (Via) who stole the train and chased me all over.  I ran and ran to escape and P (her friend) came in a bike and gave me a mobile phone.  I first thought I would call you, amma, but then thought you’d yell at me, and it is better to go to the police.  So I started searching for the police and woke up”.

Hmm.  I think the parent-inflicted trauma is complete, what say you?

Neurotic urology

I had boiled a litre of water with cumin seeds, in order to soothe my innards that are currently going through serious midlife crisis and are making it known in no uncertain terms that certain organs of the body, such as the ovaries and uterus, exist. I poured the yellow liquid into a one litre transparent water bottle to sip now and then.

The kid comes into the room and stands transfixed.


“Have you forgotten nouns and verbs?”

“Why do you have that that that…thing on the dining table”?

“Which thing?”

She points to my bottle and says “pee”.

I uncork the bottle and take a gulp of it. The kid turns green.


“Oh, you know?  Moraji Desai drank urine for his health?”


“The first urine of the day is supposed to have medicinal properties, you know?”


“There is something called auto urine therapy, don’t you know?”

“Appa…amma is being disgusting….why did you marry her?”

Dad:  Oh, yesterday, she wanted me to pee on her lemon plants to make them bloom.

Me:  Of course.  The nitrogen in urine is in bioavailable form.  Lemon needs bioavailable nitrogen to grow. I have to squat if I need to pee on the lemon plant.  Appa does not need to squat and can just squirt.

By now the kid is getting hysteric.  So, I put her out of her misery by telling her that I wasn’t drinking pee, but cumin water.  Did she want some?

I may have narrowly escaped death by looks.




Today the kid’s school gave out books for the next class that would begin next week, after two weeks of pre-summer leave.  While getting ready to go to school to pick up the books, the kid had this to say in a dreamy voice:

“There is something comforting with routine, you see.  You freaking out, me ignoring you, getting delayed…”


[[During the drive to school.]]

Mom: I love driving you to school.. I love school…oh, how I love school.

Kid: You are weird.

[[Finding no parking spot]]

Mom: I hate driving you to school….

Kid:Ahem…. two minutes back you loved driving me to school.

[[A parking spot opens right outside the school gate.]]

Mom: I love driving you to school.  I so love it.

Kid:  I don’t know you.


As we are parking, there is a higher-secondary school girl and boy chatting.

Mom: Aww…look at that girl flirting.

Kid: She is NOT flirting, amma.

Mom: Of course she is.  Let’s go and ask her if she is flirting or not.

Kid: Amma, I beg you…please let’s go in.


Back home.

Mom: Kanna, do you want coffee?

Kid:  Yes, please.

Mom: Do you want it with rum chata?

Kid: What kind of mom are you?  Offering alcohol to your own underage daughter?

Mom: The coolest one.


Whatsapp conversation across two rooms:

Mom: What movie plays at OAT today?

Kid: Um hidden figures

Mom:  “Um” as in Alice in Wonderland?

Kid:  No.  “Um,  Hidden Figures”.

Mom: Is “Um” part of the title?

Kid: No.

Mom: They why add it?  Verbal clutter.

Kid:  Grammar Nazi mom.