its 7 in the morning and i drag myself out of bed, the doorbell jangling in my ears. as i groggily open the door, two little giggling streaks sweep past me, race around the drawing room and leap onto the bean bag with a resounding thump! the bean bag groans, it has begun to resemble a tomato thats been caught in the blender, my sleepy brain notes.
my bai and her entourage have arrived.
the entourage consists of two little persons; a very small person with a perfectly angelic brown face, bright eyes and jet black hair, that hangs about her face, the other, is a small person, who is an older, little larger, (seemingly) quieter replica.
i dont quite know how events took a turn like this, but i have a nagging feeling that i have made a rather substantial contribution to it, while my bai scurries about the house, sweeping and swabbing at the speed of light, i am baby sitting the two small persons.
initially the two SPs were rather shy and would sit still, making big eyes at me, the husband and the things around the house.
lately the SPs have taken to running around the house and competing with each other as to who can take the more daring leaps onto the battered bean bag.
when they are not engaging in training for these long jumps and high jumps, they play war and counter attack games, the cushions serving as missiles, they follow me around giggling at my every move, when they tire of this, they put on their sweetest expressions and ask me to turn the tv on, so they can watch cartoons. if i refuse, the SPs begin a sort of chant in squeaky, whiny tones, "tv chalu kara na? tv chalu kara na?"
you can well imagine the toll this is taking on my nerves. i have a mild version of OCPD (and i dont even have jack nicholson's sex appeal, sheesh) and prefer things that are placed perfectly at right angles, order and clutter give me huge, mishapen ulcers.
so much so that i have begun to dread the morning jangle of the doorbell.
i turned to the husband, hoping he could install some order, being the 'man-of-the-house' and all that. it turns out that the husband is a total softie, one well-aimed, big-eyed expression from the SPs and the husband gets all knock-kneed and jellied.
"you were the teacher, you handle them", is the response i get.
its all upto me now, i will just have to ask the bai, not to bring the SPs with her. all along i am wondering what a bitch i am and how could i possibly be so insensitive, "they are just little ones", my conscience rubs in for good effect, "they are demons!!!! helpppp!!", screams my rational brain. while my brain clouds over with this conflict, the husband decides to be helpful, "what if they were your own kids, huh? would you get this upset?"
"if they were my own kids i would turn them over and beat them blue!", i growl.
"i told you we were not ready for kids, this just proves it", the husband beams that exasperating, i-won-this-round-smile and ducks into the computer, leaving me sputtering for breath and searching unsuccessfully for a suitable rejoinder.
there goes the doorbell... eeps... courage, courage...
my bai and her entourage have arrived.
the entourage consists of two little persons; a very small person with a perfectly angelic brown face, bright eyes and jet black hair, that hangs about her face, the other, is a small person, who is an older, little larger, (seemingly) quieter replica.
i dont quite know how events took a turn like this, but i have a nagging feeling that i have made a rather substantial contribution to it, while my bai scurries about the house, sweeping and swabbing at the speed of light, i am baby sitting the two small persons.
initially the two SPs were rather shy and would sit still, making big eyes at me, the husband and the things around the house.
lately the SPs have taken to running around the house and competing with each other as to who can take the more daring leaps onto the battered bean bag.
when they are not engaging in training for these long jumps and high jumps, they play war and counter attack games, the cushions serving as missiles, they follow me around giggling at my every move, when they tire of this, they put on their sweetest expressions and ask me to turn the tv on, so they can watch cartoons. if i refuse, the SPs begin a sort of chant in squeaky, whiny tones, "tv chalu kara na? tv chalu kara na?"
you can well imagine the toll this is taking on my nerves. i have a mild version of OCPD (and i dont even have jack nicholson's sex appeal, sheesh) and prefer things that are placed perfectly at right angles, order and clutter give me huge, mishapen ulcers.
so much so that i have begun to dread the morning jangle of the doorbell.
i turned to the husband, hoping he could install some order, being the 'man-of-the-house' and all that. it turns out that the husband is a total softie, one well-aimed, big-eyed expression from the SPs and the husband gets all knock-kneed and jellied.
"you were the teacher, you handle them", is the response i get.
its all upto me now, i will just have to ask the bai, not to bring the SPs with her. all along i am wondering what a bitch i am and how could i possibly be so insensitive, "they are just little ones", my conscience rubs in for good effect, "they are demons!!!! helpppp!!", screams my rational brain. while my brain clouds over with this conflict, the husband decides to be helpful, "what if they were your own kids, huh? would you get this upset?"
"if they were my own kids i would turn them over and beat them blue!", i growl.
"i told you we were not ready for kids, this just proves it", the husband beams that exasperating, i-won-this-round-smile and ducks into the computer, leaving me sputtering for breath and searching unsuccessfully for a suitable rejoinder.
there goes the doorbell... eeps... courage, courage...
2 comments:
hehehehehe nice one! The bai problems have quite a few variations. This is one I haven't come up against yet.
Very small person and small person !!!!!!! :-))
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