The dead machines

In our library, we have 2 machines for DIY checkout that are almost always not working. They are also the high point of the trip to the library for the kids. So, inevitably, we spend several minutes trying to use them before queuing for the librarian.

Yestarday was no different. As we gave up on the machine, Ashwin observed,

Amma, these machines are not working.

Me: I know.

Ashwin: They are dead. See that sign there, it says dye borrowing.

DIY Borrowing!

How could we have missed this glaring sign before???!!

Divya speak

In the car y'day as we arrived at the swimming pool:

Divya: Wysmytweegoingyees

Me: What?

Divya: Wys my stwee going yeevs

Me (Panicking that I'd forgotten something at home!): Where's your what?

Divya: WYSMUS TWEES GOING YEEVS

Ashwin (Rolling his eyes at dumb me): Christmas trees growing leaves!

Thank goodness I have an interpreter!

A child's voice

We attended the Indian Independence Day celebrations in Perth and were treated to a colourful array of dances. The title of one of the dance numbers loosely translated to Beauty. The dancers, decked in lovely sarees with the pallu covering their faces came whirling out to catcalls and whistles from the audience.

"Who are they?", Divya asked.

"They are dancers Divya.. " I explained the obvious. (more whirling with pallu-covered face on stage)

"But what are they called??!" she demanded growing a teenie bit uneasy.

"I don''t know", I replied. (some more whirling. Same pallu-covered faces)

"ARE THEY MONSTERS???!" She shouted (thank God for the crowd noise!) before they threw open their pallus to show the "beauty"!

I can't not gloat about a moment (or several moments) of pride that happened earlier in the same show.

The show started with the Australian national anthem to pay respect to the host country. The audience was quiet while there were four singers on the stage singing from paper cues. It was in this almost awkward silence that Divya decided to showcase her knowledge. In a clear, loud, toddler voice, she went:

Austweyans aw yet us wejoice fo we are young and fwee....

What will I do when they grow up?

And I don't have a three year old daughter to throw open the door of the public restroom I am using (while I shout no No NOOO) and march out and crawl back in under the door???!

It will be a strange feeling to meet dignity again!

Divya & modesty don't go together...

Divya and I went to the supermarket in the weekend while Ashwin was at drama class. My normally cute daughter was still in her ballet clothes making her irresistably cute, even if I say so myself :)

An elderly gentleman smiled at us as I collected the trolley. We passed the same gentleman in the aisle and he remarked, "isn't it a pity they grow up? She is so cute!". My daughter stared him in the eye and replied:

"I'm not cute, I'm BEAUTIFUL"

(and later, she tried to explain him with: May be he knows only cute? He does not know beautiful?)

Sibling conversation

Recounted by Madhu...

Ashwin stayed home from school the other day due to a stomach ache. He was battling with pain when Divya, with hair clips on her hair, walked upto him:

Ashwin.... How pretty do I look?

Ashwin (rolling his eyes and clutching his stomach): Very.

On his way to high places

When I came home from work the other day, both kids were missing. I was told they've gone apple-seed selling.

Turns out Ashwin found some apple seeds in school (let's resist guessing how he found them!) and decided to make some money with them. He sold a few to our gardener for a dollar. Some to a neighbour and 10 to another neighbour for a cent each. The duo came home clutching the coins while Ashwin was adding the booty to the money already in his money box which comes to one thousand and thirteen.... cents..

I vaguely recall reading about some big entrepreneur (Bill Gates??!) making money by selling matchboxes when he was very young.. Now all Ashwin needs to do is drop out of college to be guaranteed a place in "high places"

Forward Planning

Last night saw me at my wits end with Divya's antics for extending bedtime.

GO TO SLEEP. I said.

Don't scold me, she said. If you scold me, I will go to Ashwin. If he scolds me, then I will go to appa. If he scolds me I will go to another house. If they scold me, then another house. If they scold me, I will go to daycare.

What can I say? If not a sleeper, at least she is a planner!

My sweet boy!

Ashwin and I were chatting before bed time the other day and somehow came to the topic of Ashwin's children.

"When I have children and they have their children, will you be dead?", he asked.

Yes, I replied matter-of-factly. After all, it is about many many years later. We spoke some more about some other things.

He went quiet for a while and started tearing up silently.

By then, I had almost forgotten this part of the convesation. What happened? I asked.

I'm sad that when my children have children, you will be dead.

BIG BEAR HUG to my sweet boy!

Cheeky Through and Through

I was trying to put Divya to sleep (why do all my stories have to do with bedtime??!) and she was trying to prevent me with her usual cheekiness. She would ask for water. A different baby (toy). Tell me something about what happened in daycare. And when I say, DIVYA. GO TO SLEEP! She will give me a cheeky grin that you have to admire the little spunk and can't scold her anymore.

A good 20 minutes passed. She was close to drifting off now. That stage that I love that eyelids close and snap open again. The pull to close gets stronger and eyes have a dazed expression. Face softens. Limbs relax. At this stage, she caught me looking at her and GAVE ME HER CHEEKY SMILE! Right before the last wink was out.

Yup, cheeky until the last wink is out. That's my girl.