A lot of things have been happening this week.
First, I got my eyes tested and found out I needed bifocals. Just got me a pair. I'm officially old now.
Just as I was lamenting this sad piece of news and trying to figure out how to mourn it (the answer is "with scotch"), the missus reported a bad shoulder. She had been complaining of pain for a few days now. This morning, she awoke practically unable to move her right arm.
I know what you're thinking. One less arm to hit me with. So did I. But I couldn't bear to see her in tears.
I rushed her to the orthopedic surgeon and an X-ray and sonography later, he told me it was tendinitis, nothing to worry about. Just rest the arm and pop these pills. She'll be fine in no time.
Which means wife is currently lording it in the Shenoy Manor and orders me around like I was her serf or something, which, I realized, I am.
Michael Jackson's death has made him very popular in my house. My kids and their mother can listen to no other. The younger one's even learning the moonwalk, which I shall try to post a video of.
Infact, I've got a little football video of his which I think I'll post. This is under my watch, we were supposed to be studying Science for the Unit Test. I was explaning to him the chapter on Bio-diversity.
But I digress. I was talking about Michael Jackson.
My mother said "He's that man who sings childrens songs doesn't he?"
"Childrens songs?" I didn't seem to recall any.
"He keeps saying My Baby, My Baby. I heard him just now"
"Mom, the baby in that song is not his child. It's his girlfriend"
"His girlfriend is a baby? No wonder he had those child molestation cases against him"
It's no use arguing with mom. Especially where it concerns popular culture.