This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.
I have two kids. Two Boys. A 6-yr-old and a 4-yr-old. Surely, they have cute habits and adorable things to say. They are such angels, you know…..
..well, until they are not.
You know what I am talking about. Don’t judge me.
Some days they want to play little longer. Sometimes they realise that the toothpaste is hurting their mouth.( Yeah, my kids CAN make excuses..) And its about everyday that they can’t leave their shoes in its proper place,-just like their dad. But thats just the genes and other times they are just being kids.You understand that.So, you make a stern face and a stern voice.
Sometimes you don’t even get it, by the way. Why your 4-yr-old gets a kick out of the older one being punished or why eating green leaves appeals to him but not green veggies! Why they choose to crayon the walls and not the blank papers you put before them or why your 6-yr-old leaves the tap running just to see in how much time the sink would overflow!
You fight the urge to feed them chopped leaves, convince yourself that they just desire a bigger canvas and let slip some of the coughsyrup.(just kidding!) You deal with all that just fine.
They scream. They cry. They get angry. They even rant. You make a angry face and a loud voice. You even learn to pacify them with kind, understanding words. Sure, the fact that you handled their tantrums differently and probably rather maturely, makes you feel good about yourself….
Until a day comes…the day when your 6-yr-old son gets into trouble and lies to you.
“I am going to ask just one last time”, by the stern face and a raised voice you know its me.
“I didnt do it Mom.”
His eyes. The tears. Those trembling lips. I thought dramatic lips like that are only possible in cartoons, you know, the disney, mickey and bugs bunny kind. I know he is lying. I push back the picture of him trying to flush himself down the toilet and the sweet voice saying, ” just like harry potter mom”.
“Shoaib, dont be scared. You can tell me. I wont get angry. I am going to ask you one last time. Tell me, beta.”
“I didnt do it.” To all the actors, believe me, he could have given them a run for their money.
My hands flew to my temples. Very impatiently, I drop down to face my son and look him in the eye and say…( I guess my sons get the “drama genes” from me)
” I am gpin to ask you one last time. I know you did it. I saw you..”
At this point, if it wasnt for my husband, my son would have had an heart attack and I would have burst a vein in my head.
Apparently, he was in the corner somewhere and eavesdropping on the whole situation.
” I believe you..”
I am about to show and voice my protest when my husband looks at me.A look asking me calm down. I do so.
“Abbu, I didnt spoil the sheets.”
“I believe you. Those dont even look like your hands.It looks like..i dont know, like the cat walked all over it. Then she must have soiled your hands while you were sleeping or whatever. Dont worry. I believe you. Lets get you cleaned up,okay?”
In the end, I let it go. My last thoughts being a mix of accusations and cuss words directed at my husband for he had enabled the child’s behaviour.
Just before dinner ,though, I witness this.
“Abbu, you like the cat?”
“Yes, why dont you color it as well? It looks just like our cat.”
” Mummy will throw the cat out because it spolied the white sheets?”
“No, no. Its a good cat. She makes mistakes but its okay.”
“Abbu..”, Shoaib said, his voice all crackled, tears just emerging and filling up his eyes, ” I soiled the sheets.”
He cried into Ali’s sleeve. It was just too ripe to pass up. Ali stroked his hair while his words , at times, were soothing Shoaib and at times, reproving him.
I knew from then on to choose my battles wisely.It all ended well for us. And I learnt a new lesson from my kid yet again.