That Swim Meet Will Happen Again

The birthday bashes my parents planned for me bordered on the extravaganza. Just days before one such party (and I was in the third grade then) I started running a high fever. In no time at all measles was confirmed.

The cake was given away, the prizes for the games stashed in the cupboard for next year; the birthday dress was stored for later use. Cancellation messages were sent out to friends and relatives.

I cried my heart out, as if my world had come to an end.

Anna is a good swimmer, she practices diligently. This week she was all set to take part in her first swim meet of the season. But her dream has been shelved for the moment. Poor Anna is down with a bout of flu and cough. This morning when I saw her staring pensively at the window, I knew what was going through her mind. A major case of bad luck bordering on devastation.

 But in retrospect it is nothing really. Wednesday will come and go, Anna will be feeling terrible all day, but there will be other swim meets in the future. In time she will learn that life is usually generous and gives more opportunities to make up for the lost chances.

The Sincere Worker

“Hey Anna & Mia, we are expecting guests in the evening. Let’s clean up the den.”

Mia flopping down on the rug, “I’m feeling sick Mamma.”

After a few seconds, peering at me from half closed eyes….. “Well, did it work?”

Doggy Talk On Weight And Starvation

Dr. A: Helllllo! how is our Timmy doing today?

(Timmy shivering silently.)

Me: Wonderful doctor, no complaints.

Dr. A: Good, is he ready for a couple of shots?

(aaaarrrr... a tiny moan from Timmy)

Dr. A: He's overweight Nina.... dogs his size should be around thirteen pounds and Timmy is seventeen.

Me: Doctor can I tell you something, please don't think I am a pshyco...... my dogs talk to me.....they bark in different tones and expect me to understand.... and I do. They ask for food.

(Dr. A pokES Timmy in the tummy......)


Dr. A: Nina that's normal. When I go home my cat and dog talk to me, they talk to me all the time. But control Timmy and Lucy's portions. Till date, and I have been a vet for a verrrrry long time, I have never seen a dog die of starvation.

You Did It & I Did Not

Mia: You did it.
Anna: No I didn’t.
Mia: Yes you did.
Anna: No I didn’t.

Mia: MAMMA, she read my diary....
Anna: OH MY GOSH! No I didn’t.
Mia: (wailing) YES YOU DID.
Anna: Well I found it open on your bed, but I didn’t read it. When did you have a fight with “Z”?
Mia: MAMMA, see, she did read it.
Anna: No, I was correcting the punctuation and spellings. You need to work on your grammar.
Mia: WHO CARES ABOUT SPELLINGS AND GRAMMAR….IT’S A DIARY.
Anna: Lots of people do. Writing must be neat and perfect even if you hate someone!!!!!

Mia: YOU READ MY DIARY.
Anna: No, I didn’t, just corrected some mistakes!!!!!!!!!! (sly smile)

Zipper Or The Killer-Flipper

To All the un-James-Bond-ian Moms:

Year: 2005
Setting: A Carnival, near our town.
Victim: Me, me, me, my kids, my daughter's friend and me.

Please don’t listen to your kids if they tell you that a ride is loads of fun. Use your judgment, and above all, don’t put a foot in unless you enjoy spending money just to be sick.

Mia was five years old, Anna nine. The ride I think was called the Zipper. (On retro, a more apt name would have been the Killer-Flipper.) A giant Ferris wheel like structure with multiple cages, for humans of course.

The guy monitoring the ride said that it was safe for Mia to go in, she was a tall child. And,  I, hail all stupidity, went in with her. There were no straps, just a bar to hold you in, and just as the zipper started moving, I realized that the bar was not enough to hold us. For a child, albeit a tall one, there is this chance of sliding out and bumping against the two ends of the metal cage.


The ride went first in a clockwise loop, and then anticlockwise. The individual cages were also turning at the same time, clockwise and anti-clockwise.....in a kind of "I will fling you out" motion. (The invisible monkeys were having a good laugh now at the sheer stupidity and suffering of the human race.) And the popcorn and ice-cream bought by an indulgent husband were madly churning inside me..... I  

Mia was too scared even to cry, just whispering that this was the end of everything. Anna and her friend were screaming for the ride to stop. But the operator was unable to hear us through the loud music or he thought that we were having the time of our lives. Finally my husband heard us and our ordeal came to an end.

Now you know who has the brains in our family.

Pasta as a standard!

Hey Mom.... aren't my arms like angelhair pasta?

Your Gramps has a bald patch!

I didn’t go up in smoke today. Just sizzled an then fizzled out.

 First I felt like chucking down the sink the perfect single fry sunny-side-up egg that I was preparing for my husband; or using his Armani ties as bows on Timmy and Lucy, my adorable pups.

Well, the vocation of a psycho wife is not my cuppa tea, and with a tight smile I calmly put a plate of eggs and toast before him.

I had a baby about four months back by C-section, have been trying to manage the household and a job (like most women), and striving to get my pre pregnancy looks back; and oh yes, losing a lot of hair. It is a sore point with me right now, even though my friends have been steadfast in assuring me that my hair looks just fine. Anyway, this morning I woke up and somehow fit into my skinny jeans and tee, which gave me a boost, tied my hair in a youthful pony, and sauntered into the kitchen with a beaming smile. The pups, curled under the table wagged their tails. The world felt good, the sunshine was just perfect.

My husband gave me a distracted smile, the poor dear, always worried about his business. I gently ran a finger by the side of his face and bent down to check the section he was reading in the morning paper. I love this morning closeness. Suddenly I found him peering into my hair and then an exclamation that I had a bald patch.

Me and bald patch?????? Look at you! Your bald patch reflects so much light that I feel this need for sunglasses, your brother has a bald patch, maybe even your granddad had one or your great great granddad ………….count all your sisters in .......somehow I kept my uncharitable thoughts to myself as I cooked the egg with a vengeance.

My husband looked at his breakfast plate and gave me a smile of content; eggs, toast, pancake and a slice of apple. He chewed on his bread oblivious to my anger, and without lifting his head said that he had arranged for us to go away for the weekend.
“You know how much I love you guys, pack a few things and let’s get away from NY for a few days. Oh, pack that red dress, it looks good on you.”


I fizzled out…. Need to stock up on vitamins….. spinach…. broccoli …..for hair growth, and get that packing done. Nothing beats the sunshine today! Why do women overreact?

And oh yes, I love bald patches on men ....sexy?..... distinguished?.... Whatever:)