You know what’s really scary? When The Husband takes it upon himself to impart gyan to the kids. It’s just not his area really. Believe me I’ve thought of all the scenarios before I say this. Of course there will be times when the Son will need his man-to-mans or when he and the Daughter will need to talk to The Husband after their run-ins with me. Yes I know all that is certainly on the cards and I hope those times don’t come anytime soon.
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| Pic courtesy Google Images |
In my defence….
The other day we were out with friends and we walked into Landmark. ‘Just one gift each’ I announced before the kids went berserk. They complied with amazing alacrity. Hrit picked a car and Naisha got herself a pink Teddy (stereotypes, stereotypes). On the way back Hrit commented, “Mama we are very poor, aren’t we?” Poor? “Well no,” said I, “Poor people don’t go to Landmark and pick out gifts randomly.”
“We are very poor,” he maintained. “Papa said so. We don’t buy expensive things and don’t even have a car. We are poor.” Now we do avoid getting expensive toys for the kids and are also ‘carless’ for the moment so I had nothing to say that. “Main sas (sach) bol raha hoon,” he persisted when he overheard me talking about it. The Husband of course confessed to having done the convincing to get him off his back when he was being pestered with one of Hrit’s innumerable demands. So now my son is growing up with skewed perceptions of poverty quite the French Queen Marie Antoinette.
Then there was the time I found Hrit almost in tears because The Husband had told him “We are all going to grow old and die one day.” He followed me around asking me when that ‘day’ would be and whether we’d all die together or one by one and how he’d manage when both the Husband and I would die… *sigh* When I confronted The Husband all he said was, “Well we ARE going to die one day”.
You get the picture?
So that was when I forbade him from talking to the kids about the facts of life just yet. The tactless soul is safest when he sticks to the Sharks and Dolphins. When the kids grow up (and I type this with fingers crossed) they will learn to take his a-spade-is-a-spade conversations in their stride and maybe even appreciate his candor. For now they just have to make do with me.
