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.