One afternoon last week, the window panes in our little homestead rattled with an intensity which scared the pigeons sitting on the window sill into panic flight and made them deposit a little extra guano onto a hapless car parked below. Sheela had lost her temper.
For a change, the target was not me. Presumably because I wasn't there. The brunt of the charge was borne by young Gautham who, as is his usual practice when engaged in the completion of his homework, was playing a computer game called Death of the Zorks or something equally homicidal. Sheela stepped into the room and without waiting for explanations, gave it to him with both barrels. Gautham, unlike me, does not let points of order pass without debate. He vociferated, with a great deal of crying, that he had already finished his homework and Sheela of course promptly felt like dirt. She apologized to him and explained that she was feeling a little irritable right now. "Hormonal imbalance" she told him. Peace was signed, but now the young lad has a powerful weapon.
The other day, he told her that his notes were incomplete because he felt a little hormonal imbalance in class. And yesterday, he declined to do his homework because "my hormones are too imbalanced, amma".
Sheela realizes she has to do something about this. She is just holding on till she can stop laughing.
Monday, March 17, 2008
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12 comments:
heheheh ..i think i have a crush on your son!
Kids say the darndest things, don't they?
;)
muahahahaha! just can't stop laughing!
Now...imagine if you had daughters!
LOL, second PS' comment.
Hahahaha, very smart kid! I reckon he's already handed over this weapon's duplicates to his classmatesand friends.
u shud b happy to hv one smart kid...n careful wat u say when hez around! :)
@cynic - He's extremely cute unless you happen to be one of his parents ;). No, seriously, he can be a great, if unintentional, comedian.
@coconut chutney - I remember one occasion when the elder one came up to me and said that he knew all about where babies came from. Aghast, I asked him
"Who told you, baby?".
"Mom".
The old jaw dropped an inch or two. Fearing the worst, for the old helpmeet can be terribly indiscreet when she feels like it, I asked him
"So what did she tell you?"
"From the hospital. Why, where did you think?"
@mayg - Thanks. I still laugh whenever I think about it.
@ps, bpsk - I don't know, I've always longed for a daughter. Possibly because I find them adorable. Or perhaps because they're less likely to think I'm a pot-bellied couch-potato.
@drenched - One of my close friends has a son two years younger than Gautham and so much a version 2.0 that they suspect these two have teleconferencing going.
@preeti - You bet I'm careful.
Lol!
Guess you have to postpone the 'birds and the bees' talk for just a little bit longer.
And daughters are awesome. They do the research themselves and don't bother asking their parents about it.
And smile smugly whenever the parents think they're talking about something their baby won't understand when she's actually got enough knowledge to write a thesis.
I saved my parents a lot of trouble. ;)
i wanted to write a nice and long comment - but am in freezing canada, it is close to midnight and i hv not been able to sleep two nights now - like that paccino movie - was it 'insomina'? so i guess i can very well imagine this hormonal imbalance that your little one mentioned...he is a bright one - this gautam fella...amchi mumbai ka chokra...
hehe, tweens are so good at flipping tables on us. There's always dialogs and drama around our place too!
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