In a similar vein, not consciously, but it just so happens that we don’t listen to anything that is vulgar/not appropriate at home. Imagine my surprise when abu, one day, is singing “bhaag, bhaag, d k bose, d k bose, d k bose, bhaag d k bose” (will be translated soon enough in this anecdote). He was singing it so well, with complete lyrics. That “don’t know whether to laugh or to cry” moment because except for that one play on words, the song is pretty cool. And the other kids in the house were laughing their hearts out while asking for an encore whenever abu went “abhi aaayi yaaaa” (listen to clip below to see what I mean).

And this had become one of those routines for about 4-5 days. I couldn’t say don’t sing this song, lest I’d have to explain why. I didn’t want to bring in extra attention to something not worthy of it either. But ha-ha! If only parenting were so rosy to let it slide. The time came.

abu – mamma, A was saying that ‘bhaag bhaag’ is a bad song. D K Bose is a bad word. No na, mamma? It’s just a guy or girl’s name, right?

me (gulp, think, gulp, think, gulp) – well…yes…it is a name…

(gaining better control) see like when you say “ram, ram, ram, ram” too many times, it sounds like “mara, mara, mara, mara, mara” (Who knew this common silly, joke-type thingy would come in handy as a parenting tool!?) similarly, when you say “D K Bose” together too often it becomes a word which has a very bad meaning. So bad that even adults shouldn’t really be saying it. (I wanted to add, “come to think of it,  I don’t think I know why it is bad”, but let that be.)

abu – ok

me … (*phew* that was easy) … I left the room, only to think the song ain’t that bad and the way he sang it, lyrics and all, it was worth encouraging. Here’s hoping I haven’t caused any serious damage to my 9-year-old’s developing brain/IQ/EQ/whatever…

Meanwhile, for your listening pleasure – abu’s version of ‘bhaag bhaag’

Rabad saw this and insisted that she also wanted to learn how to use the online stopwatch. So I taught her how to go to Online-Stopwatch.com, how to start the countdown timer and so on. That made her happy and she started exploring the features of the website.

Just as I had finished explaining to her, meetu came in the room, and we started discussing some work stuff (related to wogma). Rabad continued playing with the stopwatch while we had our discussion.

After the discussion, I left the room, and Rabad followed me out.

“Daddy,” she asked, “Do you know what I was doing with the stopwatch?”

“No.”

“I was counting how much time you and Mamma talk,” she announced, with what did look like an evil grin.

“Huh?”

“I was counting how much time you get to talk to each other and how much time you spend with each other. So now whenever you or Mamma complain that children don’t allow you to spend time with each other, I will bring the computer and show you how much time you spend with each other.”

So now there are high-tech weapons deployed against us. It’s a losing battle.

rabad – “mamma, when i grow up, i’ll have a pee-pee like abu, right?” (i think i sensed hopefulness in her tone)

me – “no baby, we were made girls and girls pee-pees are different from boys”

rabad – “but, why?”

me – “uh…..that’s how it is…”

rabad – “why did you make me girl, i wanted to be a boy”

me – “oh…uh…if you were a boy, you wouldn’t get to wear pretty skirts and frocks, clips and hairbands, bindis and bangles…”

i’m thinking really quick while i’m talking…this is not the right answer, what makes me like being a woman…being treated like a woman, that i think rabad is already making full use of (read foot note)…what else, what else…getting away from the traffic cop…no, bad idea…absolutely wrong time to tell her the things i hate about being a woman…

“how will you have a baby? only girls can have babies” BINGO! (she loves the idea of having a baby of her own)

rabad – “abu will not have a baby?”

me – “no”

end of conversation….matter disbursed for the time being…

after listening to the conversation between hubby dear and rabad, i get this feeling that rabad was double-checking and was clarifying her follow-up queries.

maybe we are goofing up. but how do you tell?
—

this happened last year, rabad was 3. we had been to a restaurant with a few friends recently. abu and rabad usually take off their shoes so that they can sit cross-legged.

at the end of the meal…

rabad – “you put on the shoes for me, pappa”

hubby dear – “no, on your own”

rabad, turning over to her friend ag, who is was 5 year old little boy – “please put shoes on for me”

ag dutifully bent over and put her shoes on for her…

anyways, i tried to “shhhhushhh” her.

“mumma, they are shouting “om shanti om”, i am only copying them”

i think i should just be happy that she didn’t say, “i am hot girl na…”

(for the uninitiated, the song goes “all the hot girls, put your hand in the air and say om shanti om”)

rabad, who i thought was sleeping, asks …”mamma, what did that uncle say?”
hubby dear – “Shakalaka boom boom”
rabad – “then what did mamma say”
hubby dear – “ask mamma”
rabad- “what is puck puck” – at this point i was looking for a place to sink my face in
hubby dear – “uh…um…”
rabad – “draw it for me”

o-kay – i shall be more careful next time. and will copy-paste this 100 times as punishment.

one morning, abu saw some used movie ticket stubs outside my purse, “maa, which movie are these for?”

me – “a mighty heart, you slept when we were watching it yesterday”

abu – “what was it about?”

me – “about an aunty who lost her husband and she was looking for him”

abu – “did she sing a sad song?”

yeah-yeah-yeah, it is time to introduce the kids to non-hindi movies.

me – “an uncle gets it out of the cow’s stomach”

rabad – “hmmm…ok”

rabad – “are plastic bags also made in the cow’s stomach?”

we get milk every morning in sealed plastic bags.